u 


0t  ttw  Shrolojjia/ 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


Purchased  by  the  Hamill  Missionary  Fund. 


Division 


Section 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


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» 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Natural  bridge,  “Puente  del  Inca,”  on  the  Transandine  Railway 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


BY 

EDWARD  ALSWORTH  ROSS,  PH.  D.,  LL.D. 


Professor  of  Sociology,  University  of  Wisconsin, 
of  '‘Social  Control,”  “Social  Psychology,” 
Changing  Chinese,”  “Changing  America, 
“The  Old  World  in  the  New,”  etc. 


ILLUSTRATED  WITH  MORE  THAN 
EIGHTY  PHOTOGRAPHS 


Author 

“The 


NEW  YORK 
THE  CENTURY  CO. 


Copyright,  1914,  1915,  by 
The  Century  Co. 

Published  April,  1915 


To 

ERNESTO  QUESADA 
Scholar  and  Thinker 
Eminent  among  the  Pioneers 
in  the  Scientific  Study  of  Human  Society 
This  Book 
is  Dedicated 


PREFACE 


“In  writing  about  the  South  Americans,”  said 
one  of  our  Consuls,  “no  doubt  you  will  always 
bear  in  mind  that  it  is  the  traditional  policy  of 
the  United  States  to  cultivate  their  friendship.” 

I have  done  nothing  of  the  sort.  My  first  obli- 
gation is  not  to  National  Policy  but  to  Truth. 
Enough  has  been  written  in  furtherance  of  our 
trade  and  diplomacy;  it  is  high  time  for  a candid 
examination  of  the  facts.  This  book  is  not  in- 
tended to  help  sell  our  goods  below  the  Equator, 
but  to  interpret  to  Americans  the  people  who,  in 
consequence  of  the  opening  of  the  Panama  Canal, 
have  become  new  neighbors  of  ours. 

It  is  the  pet  sentiment  of  Pan- Americanism  that 
the  peoples  of  the  two  Americas  are  spiritual  cous- 
ins. Are  we  not  all  children  of  the  New  World? 
The  fact  is  that  the  British,  the  Norwegians,  the 
Dutch,  even  the  Germans,  have  much  more  in  com- 
mon with  us  than  the  South  Americans.  On  the 
other  hand,  their  mental  affinities  are  with  the 
Latins  of  the  Old  World,  rather  than  with  us. 
The  differences  between  us  in  ideas  and  ideals  run 
far  deeper  than  the  ordinary  traveler  imagines. 

South  America  is  the  victim  of  a bad  start.  It 
was  never  settled  by  whites  in  the  way  that  they 
settled  the  United  States.  All  the  European  blood 


PREFACE 


from  the  Caribbean  to  Cape  Horn  probably  does 
not  exceed  that  to  be  found  within  the  area  in- 
closed by  lines  connecting  Washington,  Buffalo,  Du- 
luth, and  St.  Louis.  The  masterful  whites  simply 
climbed  upon  the  backs  of  the  natives  and  ex- 
ploited them.  Thus,  pride,  contempt  for  labor, 
caste,  social  parasitism,  and  authoritativeness  in 
Church  and  State  fastened  upon  South  American 
society  and  characterize  it  still.  It  will  be  yet  long 
ere  it  is  transformed  by  such  modern  forces  as 
Industry,  Democracy,  and  Science. 

It  would  be  unpardonable  for  us  ever  to  be 
puffed  up  because  we  enjoy  better  social  and  civic 
health  than  is  usual  in  South  America.  If  our 
forefathers  had  found  here  precious  metals  and 
several  millions  of  agricultural  Indians,  our  social 
development  would  have  resembled  that  of  the  peo- 
ples that  grew  up  in  New  Spain.  Not  race  ac- 
counts for  the  contrast  in  destiny  between  the  two 
Americas,  nor  yet  the  personal  virtues  of  the  orig- 
inal settlers,  but  circumstances. 

Edward  Alsworth  Ross. 

Madison,  Wisconsin. 

March,  1915. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR 3 

Buenaventura  and  the  Choco  — Over  into  the  Cauca 
Valley  — Cali  the  Sleepy  — Life  in  a patio  — Character 
of  the  Caucans  — Americans  in  exile  — The  Biblical  An- 
tioquians  — Down  the  coast  to  Guayaquil  — Yellow  Jack 
and  plague  — The  climb  to  Quito  — The  gold  legend  of 
Latacunga  — Climatic  contrasts  — Degradation  of  the  na- 
tives — Indians  of  the  Sierra  — The  future  of  the  Ecu- 
adorans — Why  no  immigrants. 

CHAPTER  II 

PERU,  THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  . . . . .33 

Why  the  coast  is  rainless  — Rivers  that  empty  into  the 
air  — Cargo-collecting  — The  spell  of  Peru  — Make-up  of 
the  Peruvian  people  — White  and  mestizo  — Lima,  “ the 
city  of  the  Kings  ” — - Up  to  Cerro  de  Pasco  — The  highest 
American  colony  in  the  world  — The  upland  natives  — 
Horrible  diseases  — Arequipa  — Life  on  the  Plateau  — 

The  highest  cultivation  on  the  globe. 

CHAPTER  III 

THE  NATIVE  RACES 64 

Cuzco  as  a goal  of  pilgrimage  — Enthusiasm  for  Ameri- 
can archeology  — Remains  of  Incaic  architecture  — 
Megalithic  mysteries  — Victims  of  prehistoric  ferocity  — 
Traces  of  strange  diseases  — An  Inca  country  seat  — The 
attitude  of  the  natives  — The  Sacred  Valley  — Amazing 
agriculture  — Kechua  life  — Lake  Titicaca  and  Bolivia 
— La  Paz  — Rudeness  of  the  Aymar&s  — The  future  of 
the  native  races  — The  Oriental  Peril. 

CHAPTER  IV 

CHILE 94 

Physique  of  the  country  — Reversal  of  the  seasons  — 
Valparaiso  — Santiago  — The  Central  Valley  — Horses 
and  highways  — Araucania  — A mission  to  the  Mapuches 
— The  Germans  in  southern  Chile  — A Switzerland 
among  the  Andes  — Origins  of  the  Chileans  — Gothic 
inheritance  — The  welding  of  fighting  breeds  — Why  the 
Chilean  gentry  remained  vigorous  — Traits  of  the  rotos. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  V 


PAGE 

ARGENTINA 114 

Through  the  spine  of  the  Continent  — Hot-house  Men- 
doza — Appearance  of  the  pampa  — Argentine  highways 
— The  splendor  of  Buenos  Aires  — Physique  of  the  Ar- 
gentines — The  North  Italian  flood  — Comely  children  — 

The  reblooming  of  the  Latins  — Life  on  the  up-curve  — 
Immigration  — Land  monopoly  — Latifundia  — The  slow 
subdivision  of  the  soil  — The  exploitation  of  the  culti- 
vators — A tenant  revolt  — The  spirit  of  Argentina  — 

Its  development  parallel  to  ours. 

CHAPTER  VI 

LABOR,  CLASS,  AND  CASTE 139 

Preference  for  town  life  — Large  estates  and  absenteeism 
— Rural  decay  in  Chile  — The  German  genius  for  agri- 
culture — The  labor  system  — Types  of  colonization  — 
Latif undid  and  peonage  — Feudalism  in  inner  Peru  — 

The  hooker  and  the  hook  — The  pongos  of  Bolivia  — The 
inquilinos  of  Chile  — Argentine  peons  — Disdain  of  labor 
— Demand  for  menial  service  — The  aristocratic  temper. 

CHAPTER  VII 

WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 173 

Strong  masculinism  of  South  American  society  — Indian 
men  and  women  — Guarded  girls  — Courting  under  sur- 
veillance — Male  predaciousness  — The  mariage  de  con- 
venance  — Why  upper-class  women  are  cleverer  than 
their  men  — Mental  “ fuzziness  ” — Why  women  show 
more  character  than  men  — Unfathered  children  — Lax 
home  discipline  — The  coleron  — Neglect  of  housekeeping 
— Women’s  sphere  — Size  of  families  — Terrible  infant 
mortality  — Mixed  marriages  — The  clan-family  — 
Women  outside  the  home  — Alan -made  laws  — Evidences 
of  androcentrism. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MORALS 208 

Courtesy  of  the  South  Americans  — Amiability  and  geni- 
ality— Kindness  to  friends  — Want  of  altruism  — Un- 
neighborliness  — Property  sense  — Chilean  fatalism  and 
ferocity  — Evil  influence  of  the  bull-fight  — Alcoholism 
— Ravages  in  Chile  — Anti-social  policy  of  the  great 
vine-growers  — The  sex  obsession  — Prevalence  of  vene- 
real diseases  — Incontinence  of  the  male  — Effect  of  the 
vertical  sun  — Contamination  from  servants  — The  ex- 
traordinary volume  of  illegitimacy  — Innocent  motives 
for  avoiding  wedlock  — Weakness  of  the  institution  of 
marriage. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IX 

PAGE 

CHARACTER 231 

Inability  to  organize  — Mutual  distrust  as  a hindrance 
to  association  — Excess  of  pride  as  a barrier  to  co- 
operation — Why  the  people  are  poor  losers  — One  root 
of  revolutionism  — Self-indulgence  and  indolence  — 
Horror  of  bodily  exertion  — Why  the  Indians  lack  in- 
centive — Chilean  hustle  — Argentine  character  — Want 
of  persistence  — Easy  “ quitters  ” — Kechua  and  Aymara 
— Is  race  crossing  responsible  for  want  of  character  ? 

— Defects  of  nurture  — Can  the  tropical  South  Ameri- 
cans be  saved? 

CHAPTER  X 

EDUCATION 253 

The  old  regime  unsympathetic  with  popular  education 
— Backwardness  of  elementary  education  — Multitudes 
of  children  growing  up  in  darkness  — Caste  in  Chile’s 
school  system  — Democracy  in  that  of  Argentina  — 
School  buildings  — Teachers  — Normal  Schools — The 
blight  of  politics  — Educational  methods  — The  Latin 
mind  — Centralization  — Secondary  education  — The 
liceo8  are  fitting  schools  for  the  University  — Folly  of 
the  subsidy  system  — The  Universities  — No  student  life 
— Public  libraries  — Intellectual  activity  of  the  6lite 
— Conditions  of  literary  production. 

CHAPTER  XI 

RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH 299 

Privileged  place  of  the  Church  in  the  South  American 
constitutions  — Reminders  of  the  Middle  Ages  — Saints’ 
haciendas  — Wonder-working  shrines  — Irreverent  use  of 
religious  names  — The  retailing  of  religious  services  — 

Old  fashioned  charity  — The  revolving  cradles  — Rela- 
tion of  Church  and  State  — The  patronato  — The  Church 
as  universal  trustee  of  benevolent  donations  — The  mar- 
riage question  — The  Church  and  education  — Religious 
instruction  in  public  schools  — Parish  schools  in  Chile 
— Character  of  the  clergy  — 'Grasping  curas  of  the  Sierra 
— Why  the  state  of  religion  is  low  — The  weakening 
hold  of  religion  on  the  men  — Protestant  missions  — Re- 
action upon  Catholicism. 

CHAPTER  XII 

POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT 331 

Why  good  government  is  difficult  in  tropical  South 
America  — The  separation  of  races  — Inherited  bad 
economic  conditions  — Want  of  a middle  class  — Super- 
ficiality of  progress  — The  progressives  but  a handful  — 
Suffrage  and  elections  — Soldiers  at  the  polls  — Vote- 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

buying  in  Chile  — Parties  organized  from  the  top  down 
— Caudillismo  — Nationalism  vs.  states’  rights  in  Ar- 
gentina — Centralization  — No  local  self-government  — 
Overgrown  capitals  — Stunted  provincial  towns  — The 
spoils  system  — Political  virtue  and  corruption  — In- 
stances of  graft  and  bribery. 

CHAPTER  XIII 

CLASS  DOMINATION 368 

Government  as  a mode  of  acquisition  — Selfishness  of 
the  ruling  class  — Who  pays  the  taxes  ? — The  oligarchy 
of  Chile  — Disposition  of  the  public  lands  — Why  the 
paper-money  regime  is  maintained  — Neglect  of  public 
education,  public  hygiene  and  the  protection  of  labor  — 

The  favored  province  of  Santiago  — Balmaceda’s  attempt 
at  reform  — The  coming  of  the  “reds  ” — Sansculotte  up- 
risings — The  coming  social  crisis  in  Chile  — Who  rules 
Argentina? — Not  the  transportation  companies  — Priv- 
ileges of  land  — Power  of  the  landed  interest  — Nation- 
alism and  expansion  — Labor  legislation  — Contrast  of 
Argentina  and  Australia. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Natural  bridge,  * ‘ Puente  del  Inca,  ’ ’ on  the  Transan- 
dine  Kailway Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Weavers  of  “ Panama’ ’ straw  hats,  Manavi,  Ecuador  5 

Station  types,  Ambato,  Ecuador 5 

Woman  carrying  keg  of  wine,  Cali v 16 

A native  alcalde  with  rara  or  staff  of  office  ...  16 

A halt  on  the  trail  from  Buenaventura  to  Cali  . . 25 

The  laundry  of  Cali 25 

Lowland  architecture,  Ecuador 36 

A rural  house  of  the  lowlands,  Ecuador  ....  36 

Native  dwellings  near  Quito 45 

One  side  of  the  Plaza  des  Armas,  Arequipa,  Peru  . 45 

Hucksters  at  Cuzco 56 

Indian  woman,  vicinity  of  Quito 66 

Indian  women,  Chinchero 66 

Gobemador  alcalde  and  native  alcaldes  with  staves 

of  office,  Chinchero 75 

CJiolas  of  La  Paz  in  gala  attire 86 

Indian  mother  with  child,  La  Paz 86 

The  California  look  of  a Chilian  landscape  ...  95 

El  Tronador,  “The  Thunderer,”  Chile,  11,300  feet 

high 106 

View  of  the  Central  Valley  of  Chile,  near  Santiago  106 
Mount  Osomo,  Chile 115 

San  Martin  Falls,  Iguazu,  Argentina 126 

xiii 


XIV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


“Christ  the  Redeemer,”  on  Andean  boundary  line 

between  Chile  and  Argentina 126 

Mount  Aconcagua,  from  Argentina 135 

Valley  of  the  Aconcagua  River,  Chile  ....  135 
Pack  train  bringing  coffee  out  of  the  Cauca  Valley, 

Colombia 146 

Cali.  “The  King’s  Palace,”  without  the  king  . '.  146 
Glacier-fed  agriculture  in  the  valley  of  the  Urubamba  155 

Llamas  met  in  the  highway 166 

Alpacas  in  the  Bolivian  highlands 166 

Wooden  railroad  from  Laguna  Fria  to  Lake  Nahuel 

Huapi,  Argentina 175 

Indian  and  Incaic  wall,  Cuzco,  Peru 186 

Native  woman,  Puno,  Peru 186 

Just  after  Sunday  Mass,  Chinchero 195 

Natives  of  the  Sierra,  near  Cerro  de  Pasco,  Peru  . 195 
Native  wayfarer  in  Tiahuanacu,  Bolivia  ....  205 

Waterman  of  La  Paz 205 

Sunday  market  within  an  ancient  Incan  inclosure, 

Chinchero 216 

Under  the  ceiba  trees  near  Cali,  Colombia  . . . 228 

Types  met  on  the  trail  from  Buenaventura  to  Cali  . 228 

Indians  of  the  plateau  of  Ecuador 233 

Indians  of  Zambiza,  Ecuador 233 

My  guide,  little  “Toniel” 245 

Boy  with  a carga  of  bananas,  Cali 245 

Laguna  Fria 251 

Street  Scene,  near  Cerro-de-Pasco,  Peru  ....  258 

La  Fundicion,  Peru 258 

Women’s  dining-room,  Immigrant  station,  Buenos 
Aires 264 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xv 

PAGE 

Immigrant  station  and  adjacent  gardens,  Buenos 

Aires 264 

Summit  hut,  Uspallata  Pass 270 

General  view  of  La  Paz,  Bolivia 274 

Incaic  wall,  Cuzco,  Peru 279 

Incaic  wall,  Ollantaytambo,  Peru 279 

Mount  Altar,  Ecuador,  as  an  artist  sees  it  . 283 

Two  ways  of  securing  strength.  Modern  masonry 
(with  mortar)  above  Incaic  masonry  ....  289 
Row  of  porphyry  slabs,  at  Ollantaytambo  . . . 289 
Lake  of  the  Inca,  near  the  Transandine  Railway  . 296 
The  medanos,  or  sand-dunes,  near  the  Mollendo- 

Arequipa  Railway 296 

Mapuche  (Araucanian)  children  from  near  Quepe, 

Chile 301 

Coming  out  of  church,  Chinchero 301 

Head  of  a llama 307 

Terraces  at  Ollantaytambo 314 

Incaic  walls  at  Pisac 314 

Open-air  weaving  before  a Mapuche  ruca  . . . 320 

Oxcart  with  solid  wheels,  Chilian,  Chile  ....  320 

The  Andes  from  the  crest  of  Santa  Lucia  Hill, 

Santiago,  Chile 329 

The  haunting  charm  of  Chile 329 

The  largesse  of  the  Andes 335 

On  the  Road  to  Chanchamayo 342 

Tower  of  San  Francisco  Church,  Cali,  Colombia  . 346 

Police  Headquarters,  Quito 346 

Indian  balsa  on  Lake  Titicaca 351 

Indian  balsas  on  Lake  Titicaca 351 

An  Aymara  of  Bolivia 355 


XVI 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The  cross  on  the  summit  of  El  Misti 366 

The  smoking  volcano  El  Misti,  Arequipa  ....  366 
One  of  Nature’s  bastions.  From  Machepuchu  . . 371 

Hidden  amid  the  fastnesses  of  the  Andes  ....  371 
A part  of  Machepicchu 377 

MAP 

FACING  PAGE 

South  America  showing  Professor  Ross’  itinerary  . 10 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


CHAPTER  I 

WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR 

FROM  the  windless  Gulf  of  Panama  it  is  two 
days  of  sluggish  steaming,  in  a vessel  built 
for  the  navigation  of  a mill-pond,  to  Buenaven- 
tura, wettest  and  unhealthfullest  port  of  the  West 
Coast,  and  once  reputed  one  of  the  three  worst 
spots  on  the  globe  for  the  white  man.  For  all 
that,  this  inter-island  harbor  is  the  sole  gateway 
to  western  Colombia  and  particularly  to  the 
famed  Cauca  Valley.  Not  long  ago  American 
engineers  put  a light  railroad  through  the  moun- 
tains seventy-five  miles  to  Cali;  but  unprece- 
dented rains  fell, — half  a fathom  in  two  days, — 
the  floods  descended,  and  the  track  was  ripped  out 
of  the  canon.  So  it  was  necessary  to  get  to- 
gether from  all  over  the  country  five  thousand 
pack-animals  to  take  care  of  commerce  while  the 
road  was  being  thoroughly  rebuilt  on  more  solid 
lines. 

Behind  Buenaventura,  and  reaching  to  the  foot- 
hills of  the  Coast  Range,  is  a malarious  jungle, 
called  the  Choco,  where  it  rains  every  day.  Here 
no  one  lives  save  the  descendants  of  the  negro 

3 


4 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


slaves  Las  Casas,  the  friend  of  the  Indians, 
caused  to  be  introduced  into  New  Granada  in 
order  to  free  his  proteges  from  oppression. 
Certain  virile  Texans  have  acquired  a huge 
Spanish  grant  in  this  belt,  and  are  planning  to 
bring  out  American  families,  settle  them  on  the 
land,  and  go  to  lumbering  hard  woods  and  rais- 
ing cattle.  The  men  are  honest,  but  everybody 
who  knows  the  climate  of  the  Choco  deems  it  a 
mad  enterprise. 

In  the  Choco,  slavery  has  been  extinct  since 
1851,  so  that  life  has  regained  the  simplicity  of 
Eden.  The  women  wear  a short  skirt,  and  for 
looks  throw  a napkin  over  the  bosom;  the  men  are 
stark  but  for  a G-string.  They  live  in  palm- 
thatched  bamboo  huts  raised  about  a yard  above 
the  ground.  The  bamboos  of  the  frame  are  tied 
together  with  lianas,  and  the  sides  are  of  bamboos 
split  and  flattened  into  a kind  of  board.  The 
builder  needs  no  hammer,  saw,  nail,  or  screw; 
only  the  machete.  Nor  does  the  jungle  black  en- 
slave himself  to  hoe  or  spade  or  plow.  He 
slashes  away  the  jungle,  starts  a patch  of  plan- 
tains, or  cooking  bananas,  and  sows  a little  corn. 
His  canes  he  crushes  in  a hand-mill,  and  boils 
the  juice  down  to  sugar.  He  fishes,  hunts,  con- 
verts molasses  into  rum,  and  rolls  stalwart  cigars 
of  his  own  tobacco  leaf.  So  he  eats,  drinks, 
smokes,  loafs,  and  lets  time  pass,  with  no  vanities, 
no  interests,  no  ideas,  no  standards,  no  outlook, 
no  care  for  the  future. 

Nevertheless,  this  gymnosophist  of  the  Choco 


Weavers  of  “Panama”  straw  hats,  Manavi,  Ecuador 


Station  types,  Ambato,  Ecuador 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  7 


is  by  no  means  a low  type.  The  black  people  of 
this  West  Coast  seem  to  have  been  drawn  from  the 
better  tribes  in  Africa.  Their  heads  are  rather 
good,  and  the  Guinea  type,  with  thick,  everted 
lips  and  retreating  forehead,  is  less  common  than 
among  American  negroes.  The  Colombians  in- 
sist that  these  blacks  are  more  intelligent  than 
their  Indians,  and  that  their  cross  with  the  white 
has  given  a better  result  than  the  cross  of  Indian 
with  white. 

Why  is  it  that  tropical  travelers  leave  so  much 
untold?  Those  without  experience  of  the  verti- 
cal sun  come  upon  a spring  at  the  foot  of  a cliff, 
and  drink,  anticipating  coolness.  No  one  has 
warned  them  that  springs  cannot  gush  coolness 
when  the  heart  of  the  cliff  hoards  up  no  winter 
cold.  Nor  have  they  realized  to  what  steep  cliffs 
trees  will  cling  when  there  is  no  winter  snow  to 
sweep  down  and  tear  away  the  growth.  Along 
the  trail  are  sights  which  remind  them  that  they 
are  in  the  home  of  the  only  white  men  of  the  New 
World  who  tortured  in  cold  blood.  The  pack- 
animals  are  horribly  galled,  and  the  bemired 
beast  that  does  not  respond  to  cruel  beating  will 
be  left  without  any  one  putting  it  out  of  its 
misery.  The  native  leaves  his  horse  saddled 
through  the  nooning,  not  even  bothering  to  loosen 
the  girth.  He  justifies  his  practice  as  costumbre! 
At  one  spot  the  broken  edge  of  the  trail  and  a 
crushed  pack-animal  a hundred  feet  below  bear 
witness  that  there  is  a limit  even  to  the  wisdom 
of  a mule.  Here  and  there  one  comes  on  flocks 


8 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


of  gallinazos  dissecting  the  remains  of  beasts  that 
have  died  in  service.  They  are  rather  mannerly 
birds,  and  as  they  draw  back  from  their  pecking 
at  our  approach,  they  look,  for  all  the  world,  like 
old  ladies  in  black  bombazine  gathered  about  the 
coffin  at  a country  funeral. 

Cali,  a city  of  thirty  thousand,  toward  which 
all  the  mountain  roads  converge,  is  like  a pretty 
girl — considerably  tanned — seated  on  a bank  and 
paddling  her  feet  in  a brook.  The  life  of  the  town 
revolves  about  the  river  that  comes  tumbling  down 
from  among  the  hills.  Every  bright  day  nearly 
the  whole  adult  population  bathe  in  it.  From  a 
single  point  one  may  see  hundreds  in  the  various 
operations.  Gentlemen  with  white  linen  and 
black  coats  strip  beside  the  negro  muleteer  and 
the  swarthy  peon.  The  pretty  girl  disrobes  be- 
side the  coal-black  negress  with  a cigar  between 
her  lips.  Every  tree  and  bush  yields  fancied  pro- 
tection. Behind  their  large  sheet-towels,  men 
and  women  undress  not  fifteen  yards  from  one 
another,  while  lads  and  lasses  splash  about  in  the 
same  pool.  The  men  wear  a napkin  about  the 
loins,  the  women  a red  calico  “Mother-Hubbard,” 
which,  when  wet,  discloses  the  form  with  startling 
fidelity.  More  leveling  even  than  a bathing- 
beach,  the  river  reveals  to  his  fellow-citizens,  al- 
most in  puribus,  the  portly  judge,  the  grizzled 
municipal  councilor,  or  the  skinny  banker.  But 
no  one  stares  or  is  self-conscious,  and  the  pro- 
prieties are  strictly  observed.  Still,  some  de- 
plore this  Arcadian  daily  dip,  and  point  out  that 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  9 


only  two  children  out  of  five  in  Cali  have  been 
born  in  wedlock. 

Down  the  middle  of  the  streets  gurgles  clear 
mountain  water.  Why  not,  since  in  all  Cali  there 
are  only  three  carts?  There  is,  to  be  sure,  an 
automobile,  which  was  the  pride  of  the  town  until, 
after  a few  runs,  it  blew  out  a tire.  Nobody  had 
thought  to  order  extra  tires  with  the  machine,  so 
for  months  it  has  been  out  of  use,  waiting  a new 
tire  from  the  States. 

From  the  Moors  came  the  Spanish-American 
custom  of  taking  the  front  yard  into  the  house. 
This  is  the  patio-,  or  court,  paved  sometimes,  but 
more  often  graced  with  trees,  shrubs,  potted 
plants,  a flower-bed,  a pool,  or  a fountain.  All 
the  rooms  open  upon  the  patio,  and  about  it  is  all 
the  life  of  the  family.  It  is  deliciously  intimate, 
this  having  a wee  park  within  the  house,  but  it 
is  selfish.  Your  neighbor  cannot  enjoy  your 
patio,  nor  you  his.  The  beauty  of  the  continuous 
lawns  on  an  American  residence  street  is  free  to 
all.  Here  the  street  slinks  between  blank  walls, 
broken  by  a few  barred  windows,  and  all  the 
charm  of  the  patios  is  hidden  from  the  public. 
Pretty  homes  you  have,  but  not  a pretty  town. 
This  Oriental  house,  planned  for  defense,  and 
suited  to  the  insecurity  of  a thousand  years  ago, 
is  an  anachronism  to-day,  and  will  doubtless  yield 
in  time  to  the  democratic  and  neighborly  type  of 
home. 

Life  in  the  patio  is  shut  away,  peaceful,  and 
self-sufficing,  and  in  a way  this  Cauca  Valley  is 


10 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


one  big  patio.  East  across  the  valley  the  moun- 
tains loom  through  the  haze.  Boats  ply  the 
Cauca  River  north  a hundred  miles  to  Cartago, 
where  the  river  falls  rapidly  and  becomes  in- 
navigable. Cordillera  and  Choco  shut  it  from 
the  Pacific,  whose  shuttles  of  commerce  no  more 
disturb  the  valley  than  the  clicking  hoofs  of  the 
passing  mule-train  break  the  drowsy  calm  of  the 
patio. 

No  wonder  the  life  of  the  Calians  is  filled  with 
trivialities.  They  are  all  interrelated,  they  re- 
member kinship  even  unto  the  nth  degree,  and 
they  spend  much  of  their  time  visiting  back  and 
forth  and  gossiping  hours  upon  hours  over  the 
pettiest  matters — who  has  become  engaged,  how 
the  cattle  are  doing,  and  how  the  servants  are 
behaving.  Trifling  details  are  dexterously  made 
to  yield  interest,  so  that  the  talk  flows  on  and  on. 
The  passion  of  these  people  for  politics  is  due  in 
part  to  the  uneventfulness  of  their  lives.  They 
watch  it  as  breathless  and  absorbed  as  “fans” 
watch  a league  game. 

It  is  pathetic  to  see  how  girls  educated  in  a 
Quebec  or  New  York  convent  return  to  Cali  with 
a resolve  not  to  sink  into  this  listless,  indolent 
way,  but  to  “start  something,”  give  a garden 
party  or  lawn  fete,  make  a real  social  life.  But 
the  system  is  too  strong  for  the  poor  things. 
They  are  steam-rolled  by  the  church  and  by  the 
established  social  customs.  After  a while,  broken 
in  spirit,  they  cease  to  struggle,  sink  into  ac- 
quiescence, and  become  just  as  narrow  in  inter- 


Longitude 


Greenwich 


SOUTH  AMERICA 


/ 8*nt« 

Barranqim 

l,  ill/  r»H"j| 

of  DaritiiJ 


ENGLISH  STATUTE  MILE3 


'^K- “ST"  "Guucoid 


0 100  *00  300  400  500  GOO  700  800  BOO  1000 

Prof.  Ross'  Itinerary 


malpelo 

(Col.) 


LpCo^i 


l2}^jon 


Vlanoa0/ 


'liailuba 


' 


fooMadoirn/ 


” 


Hlo  dc  Coo 


JaouirU,. 


GALAPAGOS  IS. 

(TO  ECUADOR  I 
Same  scale  as  large  map. 


piombo  Mr 


!ol«0««»A  r0U»TQB  ) 


An/oturuV 


MODE  JA? 


LI'-.capo 


.fEl"l?T 
o CM<«>  I 


"(To  CMl»7 


htloso  d»l : 


_Cru»  Alio 


Cordoba 

paG0* 

Aot*  f Vl- 


qJi] 

Valparala 


I u*f>  A TlEOR*  >■ 

v LTo  CIiM 


*tlbCMl*5 


BUENOS,, 


Ccnslii-l 


lC  S .t'tlonio 


Concepclolj 


Blain  i Bay 


V,i/,u«(  l/napt 


,S. .Valias  Cu(‘ 


O.  of  C°fci 

GUIl  ECAS  I® 
Tnyti'o  P<< 


I*  JP&C,  of  Tmo  Datjo 

(Gulf  of  St.Gtorye 


-C.Trtt  Pun  to  i 


\0UVO/fJ 


C.VtPO*"  we,T',:*x 
.Strati  of  Hagtllan, 
hnnu  fViUI»"J 30 
t^JIERRA  DEL  FUEGO 


DELAIOE  ABCmXJ»S 

Ll  j/  l'/ay«llan  vO(t 

\ 0E50UATI0N  l.^j 

\ SANTA  INE8  I. 


-,„..lon  Boy 

eEEHKt  socks  / 


8HAQ  BOCKS, 


.^-WOCLASTON  IS. 

; Cape  Hum 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  11 


ests  and  pursuits  as  the  women  who  have  never 
been  out  of  the  valley. 

The  way  of  doing  business  is  leisurely.  Sup- 
pose you  want  to  hire  horses.  You  go  in,  shake 
hands,  and  are  invited  to  sit  down.  San  Jacinto 
takes  your  hat,  asks  after  your  health  and  after 
the  health  of  the  members  of  your  family.  You 
talk  over  the  details  of  the  matter,  arrive  at  an 
understanding,  take  your  hat,  and  shake  hands. 
Jacinto  begs  you  to  place  him  at  the  feet  of  your 
lady.  You  bow,  lift  your  hat,  and  leave.  There 
is  plenty  of  time.  Life  is  not  intense,  and  a piece 
of  business  is  quite  too  succulent  and  refreshing 
a morsel  to  be  hurried  over.  Jacinto  wants  what- 
ever diversion  it  affords. 

“Life  here,”  observed  an  American  of  some 
years  in  Cali,  “is  a great  lesson  in  self-restraint. 
These  people  regard  swearing  and  storming  as 
a sign  of  weakness.  The  more  you  storm,  the 
politer  they  become.  Till  the  last  gasp  they  keep 
up  appearances,  preserve  the  semblance  of  mutual 
respect  and  courtesy.”  The  sentiment  of  per- 
sonal dignity  is  strong  among  poor  as  well  as 
rich.  The  servants  are  not  tip-extractors,  and 
the  wayfarer  entertained  in  some  humble  home 
must  be  tactful  in  offering  money.  Under  the 
good  manners  of  the  lower  orders  there  is  a sense 
of  equality  which  will  not  brook  abuse  from  any 
quarter.  The  laborers  on  the  railway  will  not 
stand  tongue-lashing  and  rough  treatment  from 
the  foreman.  In  our  climate  hunger  and  cold  are 
powerful  allies  of  the  employer,  forcing  the 


12 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


bullied  laborer  to  pocket  bis  pride  and  stick  to 
his  job.  Here  there  is  no  cold,  and  free  land  is 
plentiful.  Under  harsh  treatment  the  laborer 
sulkily  retires  to  his  hut  and  his  banana-patch. 
He  does  not  have  to  keep  your  job.  You  can  get 
him  to  work  with  you  when  you  cannot  get  him 
to  work  for  you.  A railway  contractor  told  me 
he  would  say  to  his  men  going  home  to  look  after 
their  families  or  their  crops,  “Well,  boys,  when 
will  you  be  back  to  help  us  V ’ Here,  as  in  Cuba, 
it  is  well  to  let  the  working-man  feel  he  does  you 
a favor  by  accepting  employment  with  you. 

The  limit  factor  to  prosperity  is  not  any  lack 
of  soil  or  climate,  roads  or  markets,  but  the  habits 
of  the  people  themselves.  The  American  who 
settles  here,  expecting  to  get  rich  developing  the 
dormant  resources  of  the  valley,  sometimes  comes 
to  grief  from  having  failed  to  take  into  account 
the  character  of  the  Caucans.  Thus  a Colorado 
college  man  who,  in  partnership  with  a Colombian 
classmate,  had  started  a shoe  factory  in  Cali,  ran 
upon  an  uncharted  snag.  He  imported  Ameri- 
can machines  and  trained  the  coffee-colored 
youths  to  run  them,  but  the  trouble  came  in  sell- 
ing the  shoes.  The  classes  are  crazy  for  the 
foreign  article,  and  will  not  buy  the  local  shoe 
at  half  the  price  of  the  imported.  The  masses, 
alas!  wear  no  shoes  at  all.  He  thinks  if  he  can 
get  hides  tanned  here,  he  can  turn  out  shoes  so 
cheap  that  even  peons  will  begin  to  wear  them. 
But  he  has  not  made  money,  as  he  hoped,  and  he 
wishes  himself  back  in  the  States. 


WESTEBN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  13 


“Put  it  straight,”  he  said  to  me,  “and  dissi- 
pate the  rosy  dreams  young  Americans  are 
cherishing  as  to  the  chances  for  them  here.  Then 
paint  the  life  here : nothing  to  do  in  the  evenings, 
no  amusements,  no  society;  no  girls  one  would 
want  to  marry;  nothing  to  bring  a wife  to.” 

I recall  half  a dozen  Americans  who,  with 
coffee,  sugar,  and  public  utilities,  have  become 
wealthy  according  to  the  Colombian  standard ; but 
they  are  exceptional  men  and  would  have  suc- 
ceeded at  home.  Doubtless  every  one  of  them 
would  be  worth  more  to-day  if  he  had  stayed  in 
the  States.  Soil  and  climate  are  here,  and  the 
valley  does  progress;  but,  owing  to  hitch  after 
hitch,  things  have  gone  slower  than  they  had 
hoped.  The  reopening  of  the  railroad,  port  im- 
provements at  Buenaventura,  and  the  Canal  burn 
like  a comet  in  the  imagination  of  the  stirring 
spirits,  however,  and  all  expect  this  to  be  the 
year  I of  a new  era. 

So  the  spell  that  held  Cali  in  slumber  is  break- 
ing. The  autumnal  haze  is  lifting.  Electric  light- 
ing, telephones,  a tram  to  the  river,  and  a plaza 
with  band  music  have  come  in  within  five  years. 
Twice  a week  the  ice-making  machine  “func- 
tions,” the  sign  “hielo”  is  hung  out,  and  the 
gentlemen  at  the  bars  have  something  to  tinkle 
in  their  glasses.  Lately  the  motion-picture  show 
has  come,  and  the  people  are  wild  over  it.  Re- 
vealing the  big  world  beyond  the  blue  Cordillera, 
these  films  are  bound  to  make  the  young  folks 
restless.  To-day  you  show  a Caucan  a good 


14 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


chance  to  make  money,  and,  as  likely  as  not,  the 
man  will  decline  it  with  the  remark,  “We  must 
leave  something  for  our  sons  to  do.”  No  doubt 
the  sons  will  be  ready  to  do  it. 

Natural  barriers  so  divide  the  country  that 
Colombia  in  reality  consists  of  a number  of  pro- 
vincial “tribes”  loosely  aggregated  into  a na- 
tion. Of  these  the  most  pushing  and  formidable 
are  the  Antioquians,  whose  home  lies  to  the  north 
of  the  valley.  These  people  belong  to  the  Old 
Testament.  The  lads  marry  at  eighteen  or 
twenty,  the  girls  at  fifteen  or  sixteen,  although  I 
have  met  some  who  were  brides  at  twelve.  The 
families  are  patriarchal  in  size,  twelve  children 
being  nothing  uncommon;  one  hears  of  a single 
couple  with  twenty-nine  sons!  The  Antioquians 
are  not  only  hard  working  and  acquisitive,  but 
they  are  enterprising  and  aggressive.  Thanks 
to  their  Biblical  prolificacy  and  their  bracing 
climate,  they  are  spilling  over  their  boundaries 
into  other  provinces,  and,  since  they  capture 
branch  after  branch  of  business  and  make  money, 
they  are  much  feared  by  other  Colombians.  It  is 
a striking  fact  that  not  only  do  the  Antioquians 
often  show  the  Semitic  countenance  and  Hebraic 
traits,  while  their  province  abounds  in  Biblical 
place  names,  but  they  regard  themselves,  and  are 
regarded  by  others,  as  Hebrews.  It  is  supposed 
that  long  ago  numerous  converted  Spanish  and 
Portuguese  Jews  settled  in  this  province,  and  be- 
came the  seed  of  this  pushful  race.  What  with 
these  and  with  the  five  thousand  Syrians  now  in 


A native  alcalde  with  vara  or  staff  of  office 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  17 


Colombia,  and  more  coming  in  all  the  time,  the 
future  of  the  country  has  a Semitic  look. 

The  ports  along  the  coast  from  Buenaventura 
to  Guayaquil  seem  to  be  spigots  spouting  natural 
products  from  an  inexhaustible  back  country. 
Here  is  piled  crude  rubber  in  lumps  as  big  as 
one’s  two  fists;  there  the  warehouses  are  burst- 
ing with  cocoanuts.  In  one  town  cacao  nuts  are 
everywhere  spread  out  drying.  In  another  the 
boys  are  growing  up  illiterate  because  their 
parents  keep  them  out  of  school  shucking  and 
sacking  tagua,  or  ivory-nuts,  without  which  a 
third  of  the  human  race  would  go  buttonless. 
Coffee  comes  out  on  the  lighters,  and  some  cotton. 
Sugar,  bananas,  and  oranges  ought  to  be  pouring 
out  of  the  interior,  but  they  are  not,  because  both 
labor  and  capital  are  lacking  to  subdue  the  wil- 
derness. Aside  from  gathering  natural  products, 
the  only  industry  seems  to  be  the  weaving  of 
“Panama”  hats,  which  has  its  center  at  Manta, 
Ecuador. 

For  the  little  ports  backed  by  jungle  the  arrival 
of  the  weekly  steamer  is  a festal  occasion.  The 
boats  of  the  captain  of  the  port,  the  customs 
officer,  and  the  agent  of  the  company,  come  along- 
side filled  with  their  friends,  eager  to  stroll  about 
the  decks  and  test  the  resources  of  the  bar.  The 
officer  of  the  port  brings  several  female  members 
of  his  family,  who  of  course  must  be  invited  into 
the  captain’s  cabin  and  regaled  with  his  Scotch. 
If  a prominent  citizen  is  leaving  for  Guayaquil, 
his  friends  breakfast  with  him  on  board,  quaff 


18 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


toasts,  cheer,  slap  one  another  on  the  back,  and 
send  him  off  in  a blaze  of  glory.  If,  tarrying  too 
long  at  his  wine,  one  of  them  appears  on  deck 
after  the  last  boat  has  left,  and  sees  himself  let 
in  for  an  involuntary  sea  voyage,  there  is  a hur- 
ricane of  glee. 

These  people  attach  no  value  to  time,  and  the 
captain  who  lasts  on  this  run  is  a man  beside 
whom  Job  was  testy  and  irascible.  At  Esmeral- 
das  the  ship  was  ready  to  leave  at  noon.  She 
got  off  at  four  o’clock  because  a despatch-boat 
waited  hours  while  the  gobernador  wrote  various 
letters  for  Guayaquil.  They  might  have  been 
ready  earlier  or  he  might  have  shut  himself  up 
for  an  hour  while  writing  them.  But  a relative 
or  a friend  dropped  in,  cigarettes  were  lighted, 
and  the  letter  was  thrown  aside  till  they  had 
talked  themselves  out.  Thus  the  chance  caller 
may  delay  the  clearance  of  the  ship,  and  nothing 
can  be  done  about  it. 

Always  yellow  fever  and  bubonic  plague  may 
be  found  at  Guayaquil.  Although  most  of  the 
time  they  smolder  in  the  huts  of  the  outskirts, 
there  are  seasons  when  they  blaze  up  dangerously. 
When  we  went  in,  it  was  the  dry  season,  and 
mosquitos  were  few  along  the  water  front.  Still, 
there  were  ten  cases  of  bubonic  and  thirty  of 
yellow  fever.  The  Stegomya  never  troubles  the 
highlanders  of  Ecuador,  but  Quito  fears  the 
bubonic,  and  allows  no  one  to  come  up  who  has 
not  been  vaccinated  for  it  in  the  municipal  bacte- 
riological laboratory  at  Guayaquil.  The  native- 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  19 


born  of  the  port  are  immune  to  yellow  fever,  be- 
cause the  babies  get  the  fever  in  a mild  form,  and 
the  survivors  are  ever  afterward  safe.  Ameri- 
cans are  determined  to  keep  the  Canal  Zone  free 
from  infection,  and  their  strictness  about  vessels 
that  have  touched  at  Guayaquil  is  putting  a like 
strictness  into  the  sanitary  policy  of  other  West 
Coast  ports  eager  to  benefit  by  the  Canal.  More 
and  more  Guayaquil  is  quarantined  against;  she 
therefore  foresees  grass  in  her  streets  if  she  does 
not  clean  up,  and  costly  measures  of  sanitation 
are  under  consideration.  Still,  among  the  short- 
sighted native  merchants  one  comes  on  the  feeling : 

‘ ‘ Sanitation  will  tempt  the  gringo  to  come  in  and 
wrest  our  business  from  us.  Let  our  friend 
Yellow  Jack  stay.” 

Perhaps  the  most  attracting  thing  about  Guaya- 
quil is  that  from  it  an  American  train  will  set  you 
in  half  a day  on  one  of  the  two  greatest  plateaus 
in  the  world,  and  at  the  close  of  the  second  day 
will  bring  you  to  Quito,  only  five  leagues  south  of 
the  equator.  Out  across  the  plain  to  Bucay, 
where  the  two-mile  climb  begins,  one  fills  a mental 
film  with  scenes  from  tropical  agriculture : orange- 
trees  glorious  with  yellow  globes;  palms  bearing 
cocoanuts  at  every  stage  of  growth;  fields  filled 
with  a low,  pinkish-green  Spanish  bayonet,  hold- 
ing often  a central  spike  that  bears  a pineapple; 
patches  of  toquilla,  which  yields  the  “straw”  for 
making  Panama  hats ; banana  plantations  making 
a dense  jungle  four  fathoms  deep.  Then  there 
are  trees  bearing  papayas , mangos,  and  bread- 


20 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


fruit.  The  tall  chimney-stack  marks  the  sugar- 
mill.  Over  toy  tracks  cars  carry  the  sugar-canes 
to  the  mill,  and  after  they  have  been  passed  be- 
tween double  rolls,  the  refuse  is  dry  enough  to 
burn  at  once  in  the  furnace.  Down  orchard  rows 
one  sees  the  magenta  or  golden  cacao-pods,  as 
big  as  a bos’n’s  fist,  not  drooping  gracefully 
from  twigs  but  stemmed  right  to  the  trunk  and 
branches  of  the  tree. 

Planted  only  three  yards  apart,  the  trees  grow 
into  a dark  jungle  and  run  to  foliage.  In  one 
grove,  however,  they  stood  seven  yards  apart  and 
were  loaded  with  pods.  This  innovation  be- 
tokens, no  doubt,  foreign  influence.  The  for- 
eigner asks: 

“Why  don’t  you  give  your  trees  more  room, 
trim  off  the  dead  and  weak  branches,  and  let  the 
sun  into  your  orchard?” 

“My  father  and  my  grandfather,”  replies  the 
Ecuadoran  planter,  “got  from  this  estate  enough 
to  live  on,  so  why  should  I depart  from  their 
ways?  Spare  me  your  new-fangled  notions.” 

Still,  there  is  a tale  of  one  Don  Ignacio  who,  in 
a corner  of  his  cacao  plantation,  cut  out  every 
other  tree  and  every  other  row  to  see  what  would 
happen.  It  became  noised  about  that  he  was 
loco,  and  the  rumor  reached  his  ears. 

“Wait  three  years,”  he  said;  “if  then  this  field 
bears  less  than  the  others,  call  me  loco.”  After 
three  years  the  neighbors  saw  his  trees  set  thick 
with  pods,  and  said,  1 1 So  Don  Ignacio  is  not  loco, 
after  all,”  and  they  began  to  follow  his  example. 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  21 

At  Alausi,  a mile  and  a half  up,  we  are  among 
irrigated  patches  of  wheat,  corn,  cabbages,  and 
other  characteristic  crops  of  the  temperate  zone. 
Above  two  miles  we  rumble  over  bleak  paramos, 
or  mountain  pastures,  with  cattle  and  sheep 
cropping  on  the  tawny  slopes,  while  the  bottom 
of  the  ravines  is  gemmed  with  fields  of  lucerne, 
potatoes,  and  barley,  bright  green  in  gray  like 
jade  set  in  granite. 

We  lie  over  night  at  Riobamba,  and  thence  to 
Quito  is  a golden  day,  with  a chain  of  Andes  on 
either  hand.  Surely  no  other  city  in  the  world  is 
approached  through  a double  avenue  of  volcanoes, 
from  five  to  ten  leagues  wide  and  forty  long. 
Chimborazo,  Altar,  Tungurahua,  Cotopaxi,  San- 
gay,  and  Cayambe  thrust  a mile  or  more  of  man- 
tled peak  above  the  snow-line,  which  here  under 
the  equator  is  between  fifteen  and  sixteen  thou- 
sand feet.  The  train  pants  up  wind-swept  ridges 
and  slips  down  into  sheltered  valleys.  At  Urbina 
we  are  near  to  twelve  thousand  feet,  a thousand 
feet  above  the  highest  tillage.  In  ninety  minutes 
we  glide  down  thirty-four  hundred  feet  to  Am- 
bato,  girt  with  vineyards  and  peach-orchards. 
It  is  like  passing  from  Labrador  to  Maryland. 

One  does  not  need  the  smoke-plume  floating 
from  the  peaks  or  the  jarring  detonations  to  learn 
what  manner  of  land  this  is,  for  every  railway 
cutting  exposes  a tragic  page  of  history.  The 
blanket  of  volcanic  ash  dropped  over  the  country 
every  century  or  so  gives  vast  gray  landscapes 
like  Nevada.  Trees  there  are  none,  and  the 


22 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


houses  are  all  of  adobe  and  thatched.  Beside 
the  huts  stand  beehive  stacks  of  yellow  grain 
like  those  of  an  Iowa  farmer.  Near  by  is  a 
threshing-floor,  with  a donkey  going  round  and 
round  while  the  husbandman  plies  the  pitchfork. 
The  irrigated  fields,  the  sheepfolds,  the  oxen 
drawing  an  iron-shod,  one-handle  plow  of  the 
time  of  the  Pharaohs,  remind  one  of  Biblical  agri- 
culture. 

Between  the  fields  run  hedges  of  spiny  Ameri- 
can aloe,  or  century-plant,  the  same  plant  that  in 
Mexico  yields  pulque  and  in  Yucatan  the  fiber 
for  binding-twine.  Cacti  abound,  clumsy  and 
bulbous,  bearing  a top  like  the  seven-branched 
candlestick  of  Solomon’s  temple.  Here,  just  as 
in  China,  one  sees  the  tent-like  cornstalk  shelters 
of  the  nocturnal  crop-watchers.  Most  of  the  day 
we  are  within  sight  of  the  famous  carretera,  or 
high-road,  built  forty  years  ago  by  Garcia 
Moreno,  the  best,  but  also  the  most  ruthless,  presi- 
dent that  Ecuador  ever  had.  One  sees  no  wheel 
on  it,  but  always  there  is  in  sight  a mule-train  or 
a file  of  burdened  Indians. 

Although  the  eastern  Cordillera  marches  be- 
tween us  and  the  hot,  steaming  country  of  the 
Napo,  we  cross  streams  that  break  through  and 
find  their  way  to  the  Amazon.  Latacunga,  one 
of  these  crossings,  is  the  birthplace  of  the  most 
romantic  gold  legend  in  Ecuador.  Benalcazar 
and  his  Spaniards,  who  came  up  from  Peru  and 
took  the  kingdom  of  Quito,  although  in  their  mad 
search  they  left  not  one  stone  upon  another,  never 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  23 

found  the  treasure  which  Quito  gathered  for  the 
ransom  of  Atahualpa,  but  secreted  after  word 
came  of  his  murder  by  Pizarro.  Long  after,  a 
certain  Spaniard  in  Ecuador,  Valverde,  became 
suddenly  very  rich  after  his  marriage  to  an 
Indian  girl.  Valverde  returned  to  Spain,  and  on 
his  death-bed  told  how  his  father-in-law  had  led 
him  to  a cave  in  the  fastnesses  of  the  Andes; 
wherein  lay  the  ransomed  gold  of  the  Inca.  He 
left  for  the  king  of  Spain  a written  derrotero,  or 
chart,  with  minute  directions  how  to  reach  the 
treasure-cave  from  Latacunga.  The  derrotero 
was  sent  to  Ecuador,  copied,  and  many  expedi- 
tions have  set  forth  on  the  strength  of  it.  The 
numerous  landmarks  it  mentions  tally  perfectly 
with  the  locality  until  a certain  hill  of  pyrites  is 
reached,  after  which  the  trail  vanishes.  In  Quito 
I met  an  American  army  officer  of  some  years  in 
Ecuador  who  had  spent  nearly  a thousand  dollars 
in  two  expeditions,  both  of  which  broke  down  at 
the  critical  moment  owing  to  the  desertion  of  the 
Indian  porters.  However,  by  passing  the  pyrite 
hill  on  the  left  instead  of  on  the  right,  as  all  the 
others  had  done,  he  picked  up  the  trail-marks  of 
the  derrotero,  and  was  very  near  the  goal  when 
fear  of  starvation  turned  him  back.  He  has  no 
doubts  of  the  derrotero,  and  is  sure  that  the 
treasure  will  yet  be  found. 

Quito,  lifted  nearly  two  miles  into  thin  air,  has 
always  boasted  its  “perpetual  spring”;  but,  in 
sooth,  it  would  be  just  as  fair  to  call  its  climate 
“perpetual  autumn.”  With  a temperature  that 


24 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


hovers  about  60  degrees  Fahrenheit,  in  the  shade, 
the  Quitonian  passes  his  life  in  early  April  or 
late  October.  He  escapes  winter,  to  be  sure,  but 
misses  the  vernal  miracle  that  redeems  the  higher 
latitudes.  But,  whether  he  feels  chilled  or  baked, 
he  can  always  turn  his  eye  toward  comfort.  Out 
across  the  plain,  about  three  miles  to  the  north, 
the  road  drops  three  thousand  feet  through  a 
stupendous  ravine,  and  from  the  high  places  of 
Quito  one  can  peer  down  into  a semitropical 
valley,  its  coffee-trees  and  cane-fields  dancing  in 
the  heat-waves.  Far  away  and  strange  it  seems, 
a landscape  seen  in  a dream.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  the  overhead  sun  scorches,  there  are  a score 
of  snow  peaks  to  refresh  the  eye.  As  you  study 
through  a field-glass  the  huge  drifts  and  wild 
snow-storms  on  Antisana,  which  looks  out  over 
the  rank  forests  of  the  “Oriente”  or  Eastern 
Province,  you  realize  that  it  is  easier  and  safer 
to  get  from  where  you  are  to  Greenland  than  to 
reach  those  polar  solitudes  only  a dozen  miles 
away. 

Groves  of  eucalyptus  in  the  environs  of  Quito 
agreeably  relieve  the  majesty  of  the  scenery,  and 
it  is  said  that  this  province  has  a third  of  a million 
of  these  trees.  President  Moreno  introduced 
them  from  Australia  half  a century  ago,  and  it 
is  a saying  among  even  the  enemies  of  Moreno 
that  on  the  day  of  judgment  he  will  escape  the 
penalty  of  his  misdeeds  with  the  plea,  “I  gave 
Ecuador  the  eucalyptus.” 

The  numerous  public  squares,  handsome  monu- 


A halt  on  the  trail  from  Buenaventura  to  Cali 


The  laundry  of  Cali 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  27 


\ 


merits  after  the  latest  ideas  of  French  or  Italian 
art,  well  paved  though  narrow,  streets,  and  gay 
colors  of  walls  and  costumes,  combined  with  its 
wonderful  natural  surroundings,  make  Quito  a 
city  to  remember.  Nevertheless,  there  are  un- 
speakable stenches  arising  from  the  filth  due  to 
the  primitive  habits  of  the  Indian  population. 
Not  even  in  the  towns  of  southern  China  is  one 
subjected  to  worse  olfactory  torture  than  in 
Quito.  Slavery  and  ill  treatment  have  sunk  the 
native  population  into  the  depths  of  degradation 
and  hopelessness.  Perhaps  nowhere  on  the  globe 
do  human  beings  so  much  resemble  passive  beasts 
of  burden.  In  fact,  the  Indians  used  to  be  des- 
ignated in  documents  as  “smaller  beasts  of 
burden”  to  distinguish  them  from  pack-animals. 
Loaded,  they  clamber  up  the  steep  streets  as 
stolid  as  little  gray  burros.  One  sees  many  an 
urchin  of  seven  years  bearing  on  his  back  a load 
of  bricks  as  heavy  as  he  is.  One  woman,  bent 
under  a burden,  carries  a child  at  her  breast  and 
is  soon  to  become  again  a mother.  Another 
laden  woman  plies  distaff  and  spindle  as  she 
creeps  along.  Here  is  a file  of  barefoot  women 
bent  under  loads  of  earth  or  bricks,  escorted  by 
a man  with  a whip ! 

The  women  wear  several  woolen  skirts  with- 
out shape.  A breadth  of  raw  red  or  purple  cloth 
right  from  a native  loom  is  hung  in  ample  folds 
about  the  lower  half  of  the  body,  and  gathered 
in  clumsy  pleats  at  the  waist.  Half  a dozen  such 
skirts,  one  over  the  other,  produce  a monstrous 


28 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


accumulation  of  cloth  about  the  hips,  which  ut-' 
terly  destroys  the  lines  of  the  figure. 

Very  striking  is  the  contrast  between  the 
Indian  women  and  the  negresses  of  the  lowlands. 
The  negro  woman  shows  coquetry  in  her  walk  and 
carriage,  in  her  way  of  wearing  her  manto,  and 
in  her  sidelong,  challenging  glances.  The  mo- 
ment she  feels  the  eye  of  the  stranger  upon  her, 
she  bridles  and  her  every  movement  betrays  self- 
consciousness.  But  I have  never  seen  an  Indian 
woman  show  any  desire  to  please  or  attract. 
She  gazes  dully  at  you,  and  endures  your  look 
as  might  a cow  or  a ewe.  In  natural  function 
she  heeds  the  beholder  no  more  than  if  he  were 
a stone. 

In  the  market-place  the  mothers  while  away  the 
time  looking  over  their  children’s  heads.  Often 
one  woman  lays  her  head  in  another’s  lap,  while 
her  hair  is  explored  in  quest  of  game  which  the 
finder  at  once  pops  into  her  mouth.  The  Indians 
wear  the  hair  long  and  never  wash  or  comb  it, 
so  that  it  becomes  a tropical  jungle,  the  happy 
home  of  many  an  insect  that  dies  of  old  age. 

The  Indians  of  the  table-land  are  short  and 
beardless,  with  big  faces  and  large  mouths. 
Many  have  red  cheeks,  due,  some  doctors  say,  to 
the  multiplication  of  red  corpuscles  in  the  blood, 
while  others  attribute  it  to  high  blood  pressure. 
It  is  certain  that  none  of  the  lowlanders  are 
ruddy,  whereas  pallid  people,  after  a few  weeks 
in  Quito,  often  develop  glowing  cheeks,  which, 
however,  fade  out  on  their  return  to  the  coast. 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  29 


The  women  have  wide  faces  and  high  cheek-bones, 
and  can  never  be  called  beautiful.  Most  of  the 
men  look  stupid,  by  no  means  as  intelligent  as  the 
average  negro.  The  women  have  a pleasant  ex- 
pression and  manner,  and  look  brighter  than  the 
men.  They  pile  on  skirts  and  muffle  themselves 
in  bright  shawls,  while  the  men  all  wear  cotton 
trousers  and  bright  red  or  striped  woolen  pon- 
chos. What  with  solid  red,  pink,  vermilion, 
lavender,  or  purple,  the  color  scheme  of  a group 
of  these  people  is  wonderful.  Not  even  in  Tunis 
does  one  meet  its  equal.  A file  of  Indians,  in 
bright  red  ponchos,  galloping  along  a trail  on  the 
other  side  of  a gorge,  the  line  undulating  grace- 
fully as  the  trail  rises  or  descends,  makes  a bril- 
liant picture.  No  doubt  such  color  is  a comfort 
to  these  poor  people.  Nowhere  did  I come  upon 
such  dismal  highlanders  as  in  a settlement  of  free 
Indians,  at  an  altitude  of  eleven  thousand  feet, 
who  banish  all  color  from  their  costume.  Sitting 
solitary  out  on  the  heath,  huddled  in  black  poncho 
or  shawl,  watching  their  flocks,  they  are  the 
dreariest-looking  mortals  to  be  met. 

I found  no  foreigners  who  have  faith  in  the 
future  of  this  people.  They  point  out  that  while 
this  was  a Spanish  colony  there  was  a continual 
flow  of  immigrants  from  Spain,  many  of  whom, 
no  doubt,  were  men  of  force.  Political  separa- 
tion interrupted  this  current,  and  since  then  the 
country  has  really  gone  back.  Spain  had  pro- 
vided a ruling  organizing  element  and,  with  the 
cessation  of  the  flow  of  Spaniards,  the  mixed 


30 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


bloods  took  charge  of  things,  for  the  pure-white 
element  is  so  small  as  to  be  negligible.  No  one 
suggests  that  the  mestizos — in  the  lower  classes 
they  are  known  as  cholos — equal  the  white  stock 
either  in  intellect  or  in  character.  They  lack  self- 
reliance.  If  anything  goes  wrong,  they  look  to 
the  government  to  remedy  it.  “You  will  get 
cacao-trees  planted  far  enough  apart,’ ’ observed 
a diplomat,  ‘ ‘ only  when  the  government  fines  any 
man  who  plants  them  too  close.  It  never  occurs 
to  one  of  these  planters  to  experiment  on  his  own 
account  and  see  what  would  happen  if  special 
seed  were  used,  or  if  the  trees  were  planted  or 
treated  differently.” 

Among  the  rougher  foreigners  and  Peruvians 
the  pet  name  for  these  people  is  “monkeys.” 
The  thoughtful  often  liken  them  to  Eurasians, 
clever  enough,  but  lacking  in  solidity  of  charac- 
ter. Their  want  of  truthfulness  no  one  denies. 
They  distrust  one  another  and  prefer  to  deal  with 
foreigners.  For  instance,  the  native  lets  his 
house  to  the  foreigner  rather  than  to  the  Ecua- 
dorian, because  he  is  surer  of  his  pay  and  counts 
on  his  property  being  better  cared  for.  The  na- 
tive tenant,  when  he  vacates  the  premises,  will 
steal  every  removable  thing. 

Natives  and  foreigners  alike  declare  that  a 
large  white  immigration  is  the  only  hope  for 
Ecuador.  There  are  fewer  than  two  million 
people  in  Ecuador,  and  two  thirds  of  them  are 
Indians.  Yet  several  business  men  endorsed  the 
opinion  of  the  British  consul,  of  thirty-five  years  ’ 


WESTERN  COLOMBIA  AND  ECUADOR  31 


residence  in  the  country,  that  Ecuador  could  feed 
fifty  millions  of  inhabitants,  half  of  them  in  the 
lowlands,  raising  cacao,  sugar,  cotton,  and  tropi- 
cal fruits  for  export,  and  the  rest  on  the  table- 
land, growing  cereals  for  themselves  and  the  low- 
landers.  White  people  could  thrive  here,  for  the 
coast-lands  are  cooled  by  the  influence  of  the 
Humboldt  current.  But  the  coveted  immigration 
of  Europeans  will  not  occur  so  long  as  the  mestizo 
element  dominates  and  misgoverns  the  country. 

The  foreigners  in  Quito  shudder  still  at  the 
horrors  witnessed  here  in  1912  as  sequel  to  the 
abortive  revolution  led  by  Alfaro,  former  Liberal 
President  of  Ecuador.  Alfaro,  a coast-man,  with 
the  aid  of  his  coast  friends,  got  possession  of 
Guayaquil,  and  there  was  bloody  fighting  across 
the  river  between  his  followers  and  the  govern- 
ment troops  sent  down  from  Quito.  All  the  while 
the  highland  soldiers  were  dying  like  flies  from 
yellow  fever.  The  Alfarists  surrendered,  but, 
contrary  to  the  terms  of  the  agreement  between 
the  parties  arranged  by  the  foreign  consuls,  they 
were  taken  up  to  Quito.  The  archbishop  there 
was  besought  to  restrain  his  people,  but  Alfaro 
as  president  had  antagonized  the  church,  so  the 
archbishop  was  silent.  The  mob  rose,  took  the 
revolutionists  out  of  prison,  and  dragged  them  to 
death  in  the  streets.  After  ghoulish  orgies,  their 
gory  heads  and  members  were  carried  about  in 
triumph  on  pikes,  while  the  bodies  were  burned 
before  the  populace  in  the  plain  beyond  the  city. 

“Why  do  you  do  this?”  asked  an  American  of 


32  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

a cholo  woman  in  the  hideous  forefront  of  fe- 
rocity. 

“Senor,”  she  replied,  “this  man  caused  the 
death  of  our  brothers  and  our  sons,  and  we  cholos 
have  strong  hearts.’ ’ 


CHAPTER  n 


PERU,  THE  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT 

FROM  the  Gulf  of  Guayaquil  to  Coquimbo,  in 
Chile,  more  than  seven  hundred  leagues, 
stretches  what  is  known  as  the  “rainless  coast,” 
a strip  between  Andes  and  ocean  which  contains 
as  absolute  a desert  as  exists  in  the  world.  It  was 
Humboldt  who  accounted  for  this  phenomenon. 
He  pointed  out  how  the  moisture-laden  winds 
from  the  southeast  are  chilled  as  they  approach 
the  gigantic  uplift  of  the  Sierras,  and  relinquish 
much  of  their  moisture  on  their  eastern  foothills 
and  slopes.  After  passing  over  the  Andes,  they 
meet  the  influence  of  the  warm  coast-land,  and 
their  temperature  and  saturation-point  rise,  so 
that  rain  is  out  of  the  question. 

But  why  does  this  coast  receive  no  moisture 
from  the  Pacific1!  Humboldt  discovered  that  a 
broad  mass  of  cold  water,  the  “Humboldt  Cur- 
rent,” makes  its  way  out  of  the  Antarctic  up 
along  the  South  American  coast  as  far  as  the 
western  jut  of  Ecuador,  and  then  sweeps  off  into 
the  Pacific.  Coming  down  the  coast,  one  learns 
of  it  when  suddenly  the  woods  turn  gray,  and  hun- 
ger begins  again  less  than  two  hours  after  a meal. 
This  current  chills  and  draws  moisture  out  of  the 
winds  from  the  Pacific,  so  that  when  they  strike 

33 


34 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  coast,  up  goes  their  temperature,  and  again 
rain  is  impossible.  The  coast  strip  is,  therefore, 
a desert  because  it  lies  between  two  cooling  influ- 
ences, the  Andes  and  the  current  from  the  Ant- 
arctic. 

Generally  this  current  makes  itself  a roof  of 
clouds,  and  the  traveler  may  pass  many  times 
along  this  coast  seeing  nothing  but  stretches  of 
gray-yellow  beach  or  cliff  and  chains  of  rocky 
hills,  with  the  tawny  sand  drifted  about  their 
knees.  But  some  afternoon  when  the  sun  has 
burned  away  the  fog,  across  the  hot  desolation  he 
sees  high  up,  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the 
clouds,  a great  serrate  ghostly  wall — a wall  dim, 
but  immense,  unbroken,  and  forbidding,  so  far 
away  that  its  jagged  peaks  and  precipices  melt 
into  a single  undulating  line,  and  realizes  that  this 
is  the  outer  rampart  of  a sky  world  of  glaciers, 
condors,  and  llamas,  nearly  as  strange  to  his 
every-day  world  as  a ring  of  Saturn  or  a Martian 
canal. 

Along  shore  beats  a creamy,  thunderous  surf, 
rolling  over  the  sands,  or  against  the  rocks  spurt- 
ing up  into  the  fleeting  likeness  of  a snow-laden 
fir-tree.  Most  of  the  ports  are  nothing  but  a 
sickle  of  curving  beach,  with  a pile  of  rocks  at  the 
sickle’s  point.  From  the  anchorage  often  there 
is  green  in  sight,  the  trees  of  some  little  valley 
that  winds  broadening  down  to  the  sea,  yet  dis- 
charges no  water  because  all  its  river  has  been 
drawn  off  into  the  irrigating  ditches.  No  blade 
grows  here  that  has  not  drunk  at  man’s  hydrants, 


Lowland  architecture,  Ecuador 


\ rural  house  of  the  lowlands,  Ecuador 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  37 

so  that  the  short  snow-fed  streams  from  the 
Sierra  empty  into  the  air  rather  than  into  the 
brine.  Even  if  no  green  is  visible,  the  broad 
lanchas  waddling  out  laden  with  cattle,  pumpkins, 
bales  of  cotton  or  hides,  boxes  of  chocolate,  or 
bags  of  rice,  sugar,  or  cotton  seed,  tell  of  smiling 
valleys  somewhere  back  of  the  sand-dunes  and  dry 
mountains. 

Still,  little  of  this  rainless  coast  is  growing  any- 
thing. The  President  of  Peru  tells  me  that  the 
coastal  valleys  are  not  cultivated  as  intensively 
as  they  might  be.  Even  now  not  all  the  water  is 
reclaiming  desert.  But  the  chief  hope  for  the  ex- 
tension of  cultivation  lies  in  storing  reservoirs 
with  the  surplus  water  of  the  rainy  sea.son,  so 
that  in  the  dry  season  it  may  be  drawn  upon  to 
supplement  the  shrunken  rivers.  The  Panama 
Canal,  he  thinks,  will  greatly  stimulate  the  coast 
production  of  sugar,  cotton,  and  coffee,  and  he 
looks  for  a furor  in  the  growing  of  tropical  fruits, 
once  Peru  has  been  brought  within  a fortnight  of 
New  York. 

“Why  not,”  he  asks,  “when  near  Mollendo 
there  are  single  trees  which  yield  ten  thousand, 
nay,  even  twenty  thousand,  oranges  in  a season?” 

It  is  one  of  Nature’s  jests  that  this  coast  ac- 
curst, just  because  there  has  never  been  rain  to 
dissolve  them  and  wash  them  away,  has  provided 
the  two  fertilizers — guano  and  nitrates — which 
more  than  any  others  have  made  exhausted  fields 
in  old  Europe  quicken  with  harvest.  So  that  in 
its  grim  way  the  desert,  as  dingy  and  deadly- 


38 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


looking  as  an  elderly  rattlesnake,  has,  after  all, 
helped  to  fill  the  empty  stomachs  of  humanity. 

Ship-captains  confess  that  they  prefer  the  West 
Coast  to  any  run  in  the  world.  No  other  sea  is  so 
tranquil,  so  reliable,  so  easy  on  the  nerves  of  the 
mariner,  as  the  Pacific  down  to  the  thirties  of 
south  latitude.  The  great,  lazy  billows  come 
ramping  into  port  a hit  exasperated  at  stubbing 
their  toes  against  the  shoal  bottom.  The  lanchas, 
rowed  out  by  swarthy,  bright-eyed  men  with  huge 
four-fathom  oars,  lie  alongside;  the  swells  heave 
and  drop  them  through  a score  of  feet,  and  they 
butt  together  like  angry  rams.  Cables  are 
snapped,  and  brine  splashes  over  the  sacks  of  raw 
sugar,  but  still  the  loading  goes  on.  Danger 
enough  there  is,  if  any  one  is  heedless ; yet  in  many 
hours  of  watching  the  work  with  cargo,  I have 
never  seen  the  heavy  iron  hook  hit  a man  or  a 
crate  drop  upon  a bare  foot  or  a hag  slip  out  of  a 
sling.  As  for  the  cattle  taken  aboard,  there  is 
none  of  the  brutal  yanking  up  by  the  horns  de- 
scribed in  old  books  of  travel.  Now  the  steer  goes 
up  in  a sling,  like  a kitten,  with  never  a struggle 
or  bellow,  and  the  bumps  he  gets  would  scarcely 
make  a baby  cry. 

THE  SPELL  OF  PEEU 

Were  I to  be  exiled,  and  confined  for  the  rest  of 
my  life  to  one  country,  I should  choose  Peru. 
Here  is  every  altitude,  every  climate,  every  scene. 
Coastal  Peru  is  an  Egypt,  central  Peru  a Tibet, 
eastern  Peru  a Congo  country.  The  lifeless  desert 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  39 

and  the  teeming  jungle,  tlie  hottest  lowlands  and 
the  bleakest  highlands,  heaven-piercing  peaks  and 
rivers  raving  through  canons — all  are  of  Peru. 
Here  one  meets  with  the  highest  tillage,  the  high- 
est mines,  the  highest  steamboat  navigation.  The 
crassest  heathenism  flourishes  two  days  in  the  sad- 
dle from  noble  cathedrals,  and  the  hustling  ports 
are  counterpoised  by  secluded  inland  towns  where 
the  Past  lies  miraculously  preserved  like  the 
mummy  of  the  saint  in  a crypt.  In  the  year  2000, 
when  the  Tyrol  and'  the  Abruzzi,  Dalmatia  and 
Carinthia,  have  lost  their  Old-World  character, 
travelers  may  be  seeking  the  towns  hidden  away 
in  the  Andes — Cajamarca,  Huancavelica,  Andahu- 
aylas,  and  Ayacucho  for  rare  bits  of  lustrous 
medieval  life  untarnished  by  the  breath  of  mod- 
ernism. 


THE  PERUVIAN  PEOPLE 

Of  the  four  million  inhabitants  scattered  over  a 
region  as  large  as  France,  about  half  are  pure  In- 
dians, a million  and  a half  are  mestizos,  while  the 
remaining  half-million  are  whites  or  near-whites. 
From  sixty-five  to  seventy  per  cent,  is  the  blood 
of  the  Indian,  and  mixing  goes  on  all  the  time;  for 
an  Iberian-Catholic  people  does  not  draw  the 
color-line  like  an  Anglo-Saxon-Protestant  people. 
In  the  lowlands  are  many  negroes.  The  Japanese 
number  5000,  and  are  coming  in  two  or  three  thou- 
sand a year.  As  early  as  1854,  Chinese  coolies 
were  brought  in  to  work  on  the  Guano  Islands  and 
the  sugar  haciendas,  but  since  1908  the  immigra- 


40 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


tion  of  Chinese  is  prohibited.  In  Peru  there  are 
35,000  Chinese ; in  Lima,  9000,  two  thirds  of  them 
pure  blood.  One  sees  there  many  faces  of  a Mon- 
golian cast  due  to  the  mixing  of  these  coolies  with 
native  women.  The  mothers  are  neither  whites 
nor  Indians,  but  cholas,  and  in  Lima  you  insult  a 
man  by  calling  him  a “Chino-cholo.’’  In  Callao 
you  call  him  a “Kanaka,”  for  once  the  South-Sea 
Islanders  formed  a part  of  the  lowest  laboring- 
class  there. 

The  future  of  tropical  South  America  turns  on 
the  value  of  the  mixed  blood,  for  not  in  our  time 
will  any  of  these  countries  possess  a preponderat- 
ing white  element.  There  is  a widespread  convic- 
tion that  mixed  breeds  lack  nervous  stability,  and 
Houston  Chamberlain  attributes  the  proverbial 
lack  of  character  in  the  tropical  South  Americans 
to  recent  race  mixture.  In  Lima  I talked  with  a 
German  educator,  a shrewd,  critical  man  of  sci- 
ence. 

‘ ‘ I came  out  here,  ’ ’ he  said,  ‘ ‘ eight  years  ago  in 
the  firm  conviction  of  the  racial  inferiority  of 
these  peoples  to  the  Germanic  peoples.  I had 
read  Chamberlain,  and  I looked  upon  them  as 
hopeless  mongrels.  But  I have  faced  about  com- 
pletely. The  faults  of  these  Peruvians  root  in  his- 
torical conditions,  and  can  be  eradicated.  There 
is  nothing  wrong  with  the  breed.  They  have  ca- 
pacity, but  they  lack  the  tradition  of  hard  work. 
The  spirit  of  their  past  has  been  one  of  self-indul- 
gence. What  they  need  is  right  education  and  dis- 
cipline. Even  now  these  Peruvians  turn  off  good 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  41 

work  when  their  pay  is  adequate  and  certain. 
They  have,  to  be  sure,  a juvenile  love  of  impress- 
ing, but  the  ability  is  there.” 

“Don’t  forget,  either,  that  climate  is  a handicap, 
and  that,  after  a few  years  here,  the  Anglo- 
Saxons,  too,  show  less  energy  and  force  of  char- 
acter. ’ ’ 

On  the  other  hand,  the  wisest  sociologist  m Bo- 
livia told  me  that  the  zambo,  resulting  from  the 
union  of  Indian  with  negro,  is  inferior  to  both 
the  parent  races,  and  that  likewise  the  mestizo  is 
inferior  to  both  white  and  Indian  in  physical 
strength,  resistance  to  disease,  longevity,  and 
brains.  The  failure  of  the  South  American  re- 
publics has  been  due,  he  declares,  to  mestizo  dom- 
ination. Through  the  colonial  period  there  was  a 
flow  of  Spaniards  to  the  colonies,  and  all  the  offices 
down  to  corregidor  and  cura  were  filled  by  white 
men.  With  independence,  the  whites  ceased  com- 
ing, and  the  lower  offices  of  state  and  church  were 
filed  with  mestizos.  Then,  too,  the  first  crossing 
of  white  with  Indian  gave  a better  result  than 
the  union  between  mestizos,  so  that  the  stock  has 
undergone  progressive  degeneration.  The  only 
thing,  then,  that  can  make  these  countries  progress 
is  a large  white  immigration,  something  much 
talked  about  by  statesmen  in  all  these  countries, 
but  which  has  never  materialized. 

LIMA,  “the  CITY  OF  THE  KINGS” 

“Don’t  call  this  ‘Spanish  America,’  ” warned 
a diplomat  who  knows  these  countries  as  he 


42 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


knows  his  glove,  and  shares  their  religious  faith. 
“Call  it  ‘Moorish  America.’  The  conquista- 
dores  came  from  Andalusia,  formerly  the  Moor- 
ish kingdom  of  Granada.  The  name  of  the 
leader  who  subjugated  the  kingdom  of  Quito  was 
Benalcazar.  The  patio  is  not  Hispanic,  but  Moor- 
ish. My  first  sight  of  Cajamarca  took  me  back 
in  a flash  to  Morocco.  What  is  this  manto  the 
women  wear  over  the  head  and  often  over  a part 
of  the  face  but  the  chumur  of  the  Arabs  ? Saddle, 
stirrups,  and  harness  are  Arab,  as  are,  of  course, 
the  horses.  So  are  the  cuisine  and  the  kitchen 
utensils.  The  Mexican  hat  is  like  hats  you  see  in 
Morocco.  The  men  here  are  polygamists,  because 
the  Arabs  are  racially  polygamists.  The  first  in- 
structions sent  over  by  the  Spanish  Inquisition 
related  to  ferreting  out  Jews  and  Moors , not 
‘Lutherans,’  mind  you.” 

These  words  came  back  to  me  in  Lima,  for  here, 
indeed,  is  many  a touch  of  the  Oriental — the  lat- 
ticed balconies  projecting  from  the  upper  story  of 
the  old  colonial  houses,  the  tiled  patios,  reminding 
one  of  Tunis,  and  the  frontless  shops  closed  at 
night  by  a series  of  folding-doors.  With  its 
140,000  inhabitants,  Lima  is  easily  the  first  city 
in  Peru,  but  its  present  is  outshone  by  the  faded 
glories  of  its  past.  Its  noble  cathedra^  the  finest 
religious  edifice  in  the  Western  Hemisphere,  to- 
gether with  its  one  hundred  and  twenty-six 
churches  and  twelve  convents,  recall  the  time  when 
Lima  was  the  capital  of  the  larger  part  of  Spanish 
South  America  and  the  most  churchly  city  in  the 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  43 

world.  The  fearful  devastation  committed  by  the 
Chileans  in  the  War  of  the  Pacific,  1879-84,  not 
only  upon  Lima,  but  upon  much  of  the  country 
from  which  the  wealthy  families  of  Lima  drew 
their  incomes,  impoverished  the  city,  and  there  is 
now  little  to  remind  one  of  the  magnificent  days 
when,  on  occasion,  the  pavement  of  the  Street  of 
the  Merchants  was  covered  with  bar  silver,  and  ten 
million  dollars  was  spent  in  celebrating  the  canon- 
ization of  Rosa  of  Lima,  the  only  American  woman 
saint  in  the  calendar.  Nevertheless,  the  country 
is  going  ahead  a little,  and  on  this  capital,  the 
show-place  and  pleasure-resort  of  Peru,  consider- 
able money,  both  public  and  private,  is  being  spent, 
always  with  the  best  of  taste. 

In  social  conditions  Lima  is  of  the  Orient.  A 
study  made  not  long  ago  for  the  University  of  San 
Marcos  showed  that  Lima,  thanks  to  the  Indians, 
who  breed  two  and  one  half  times  as  rapidly  as  the 
whites,  has  a birth-rate  from  twenty  per  cent,  to 
thirty  per  cent,  higher  than  the  leading  cities  of 
the  world,  but  that  its  people  die  about  twice  as 
fast  as  other  urban  people ; that  a quarter  of  the 
deaths  are  due  to  tuberculosis,  which  is  from  two 
to  five  times  as  deadly  here  as  in  other  cities ; that 
the  loss  of  infant  life  is  twice  what  it  is  in  Liver- 
pool, Hamburg,  or  New  York,  and  thrice  what  it 
is  in  Scandinavian  cities.  Nearly  half  of  the  hos- 
pital patients  are  victims  of  malaria,  and  the  num- 
ber of  malaria-sufferers  in  and  about  Lima  is 
reckoned  at  eight  thousand  or  ten  thousand  a year. 
Much  of  the  waste  of  life  here  traces  to  the 


44 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


wretched  housing  and  fatal  overcrowding  of  the 
masses.  Many  of  the  unsanitary  tenements  are 
owned  and  let  by  the  Sociedad  de  Beneficienca, 
Lima’s  great  benevolent  organization.  There  is 
irony  in  the  fact  that  it  supports  its  hospital  care 
for  the  poor  by  renting  what  a plain-speaking  re- 
port to  the  Government  calls  “a  chance  to  contract 
disease.” 

UP  TO  THE  EOOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT 

In  a day  the  railroad  to  Oroya  lifts  one  over  a 
pass  only  a stone  ’s-throw  lower  than  Mont  Blanc, 
the  highest  point  in  Europe.  This  is  the  Central 
Railway  of  Peru,  the  wonder  of  the  world  when  it 
was  building  in  the  late  seventies  under  the  un- 
flagging will  of  the  California  absconder,  Henry 
Meiggs.  Since  then,  in  Bolivia,  higher  lines  have 
been  brought  into  operation.  That  to  Potosi 
reaches  15,806  feet,  and  that  of  Colohaussi  is  eight 
feet  higher.  The  Oroya  line  richly  deserves  all 
that  has  been  said  for  it.  The  savage  gorges,  the 
scenes  of  desperate  engineering  expedients,  occur 
not  in  the  higher  levels,  but  about  half-way  down, 
where  the  streams  have  grown  big  enough  to  cut 
canons  and  carve  out  cliffs.  Higher  up,  where 
the  snow-fed  rivulets  are  prattling  babes,  the 
mountains  are  not  strongly  sculptured,  and 
their  outlines  are  softened  by  quantities  of 
loose  matter  which  the  streams  are  unable  to  bear 
away. 

The  lower  valleys  we  follow  are  lined  with 
andenes,  or  abandoned  agricultural  terraces, 


One  side  of  Ihe  l’laza  des  Annas,  Arequipa,  Peru 


•let. 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  47 

which  in  this  dry  climate  keep  their  form  ages 
after  the  hand  of  man  has  been  withdrawn.  One 
sees  them  rising  like  a titanic  staircase  to  a height 
at  least  a thousand  feet  above  the  upper  terraces 
of  present  cultivation.  At  a distance  they  look 
like  marks  left  by  the  teeth  of  an  enormous  rake 
drawn  along  the  slopes.  In  the  gorges  the  an- 
denes  are  wanting,  but  they  reappear  wherever 
the  jut  of  the  mountain  offered  a little  soil  that 
might  be  molded  into  shelves  two  or  three  yards 
wide,  supported  by  a wall  of  loose  stones.  Under 
the  Incas  every  one  of  these  terraces  was  irri- 
gated; but  the  ruthless  conquerors  seem  to  have 
wrecked  the  wonderful  aqueducts  which,  heading 
far  up,  led  the  water  higher  and  higher  above  the 
mother  stream  till  it  moistened  the  very  shoulders 
of  the  mountains.  They  would  ruin  a populous 
valley  by  cutting  the  conduit  leagues  away.  Then, 
too,  tillage  shrank,  and  the  andenes  were  aban- 
doned to  the  degree  that  population  melted  away 
under  the  terrible  mitas,  or  levies  of  Indian  culti- 
vators, sent  up  in  gangs  to  dig  silver  for  the  Span- 
iards in  the  freezing  mines  of  Potosi  nearly  three 
miles  above  sea-level. 

As  the  train  pants  up  into  the  thin  air,  some  pas- 
sengers become  spectacles  of  utter  misery  from 
soroche,  or  mountain  sickness.  Soroche  ranges 
from  headache  and  nausea  to  complete  prostra- 
tion, and  is  caused  by  the  abrupt  change  of  atmos- 
pheric pressure.  For  it,  as  for  sea-sickness,  nu- 
merous remedies  are  suggested,  but  none  of  them 
avail.  Liquor-drinking  is  bad  for  it,  but  as  the 


48 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


cold  increases,  nearly  every  passenger  absorbs 
comfort  from  a bottle.  A railroad  superintendent 
told  me  of  a well-known  American  man  of  science 
who  experimented  on  vanquishing  soroche  by  shut- 
ting himself  in  a specially  constructed  iron  cham- 
ber in  which  the  air  was  kept  at  Lima  pressure. 
A telephone  connected  him  with  the  train  officials, 
and  he  reported  himself  comfortable  while  the 
train  was  traversing  the  highest  tunnel.  If  he 
could  have  dropped  again  to  sea-level,  the  experi- 
ment would  have  proved  a complete  success.  But 
Oroya  is  over  12,000  feet  up,  and  when,  at  the 
journey’s  end,  the  chamber  was  opened,  the  pro- 
fessor collapsed  under  the  sudden  change  in  air 
pressure,  and  had  to  be  carried  out. 

THE  HIGHEST  AMERICAN  COLONY  IN  THE  WORLD 

From  Oroya  an  American  train,  which  out- 
classes at  every  point  the  English-model  trains  of 
the  Central  Railroad,  climbs  to  the  works  of  the 
Cerro  de  Pasco  Mining  Company.  This  American 
company  controls  the  largest  enterprise  in  Peru. 
It  owns  copper  mines,  coal  mines,  a smelter,  a 
water-power  plant,  and  a hundred  miles  of  good 
railroad.  The  capital  actually  invested  is  thirty 
million  dollars  and  the  two  thousand  tons  of  pig 
copper  a month  now  coming  down  promise  big 
rewards  for  the  company  after  a long  initial  period 
of  outlay.  The  pigs  are  said  to  contain  enough 
gold  and  silver  to  repay  the  cost  of  resmelting 
them  and  extracting  the  pure  copper.  In  its  em- 
ploy the  company  has  twelve  thousand  Peruvians, 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  49 

mostly  Indians,  and  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty 
Americans. 

Life  at  Cerro  de  Pasco,  nearly  a league  up,  is  as 
trying  as  life  under  a diving-bell  at  the  bottom  of 
the  ocean.  The  newcomer  gasps  for  air  like  a 
stranded  fish  and  awakes  at  night  gulping  mouth- 
fuls out  of  the  thin  atmosphere.  Three  quick 
steps  put  one  out  of  breath,  and  after  a flight  of 
stairs  one  sits  down  for  a rest.  “I  now  know,’’ 
panted  a tenderfoot,  ‘‘how  I ’ll  feel  when  I ’m 
eighty.”  The  company  sends  up  no  employee 
who  has  not  passed  a physician’s  examination,  but 
occasionally  some  one  gets  blue  in  the  face,  and 
has  to  be  sent  down  forthwith.  Thus  the  Inca 

Chronicle  has  such  items  as,  ‘‘Jake  L , who 

returned  here  last  April,  has  been  sent  home  with 
his  heart  machinery  in  bad  order.” 

The  young  fellows  play  tennis  and  ball  and  even 
indulge  in  track  athletics ; but  the  pace  has  to  be 
slow,  and,  what  with  sports,  late  hours,  and  insuf- 
ficient sleep,  the  candle  is  burning  at  both  ends. 
Singing  is  not  popular,  for  you  can’t  get  the  breath 
to  hold  a note.  Pneumonia  is  sure  death  here 
within  forty-eight  hours,  so  the  sufferer  may  have 
to  be  rushed  down  in  a special  train  that  costs  the 
company  $500.  The  typhoid  patient,  too,  must 
flee,  and  the  gringo  women  must  descend  to  Lima 
to  bear  their  babies.  The  nerves  become  so  taut 
that  every  six  months  one  takes  a sea-level  vaca- 
tion. Nevertheless,  it  is  possible  to  become  only 
too  well  adapted  to  this  climate.  I met  an  Eng- 
lishman who,  after  twenty-three  years’  residence 


50 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


at  Cerro  de  Pasco,  learned  that  his  lottery  ticket 
had  won  him  a prize  of  $5000.  He  took  train  for 
Lima,  intending  to  cash  his  luck  and  have  “one 
good  time”;  but  as  he  reached  the  lower  levels,  he 
was  so  unpleasantly  affected  that  he  turned,  and 
went  back  to  the  altura,  doomed  to  pass  there  the 
remainder  of  his  days. 

The  company’s  Americans  are  usually  big,  ath- 
letic, deep-chested,  strong  of  jaw,  sinewy  of  grip, 
and  masterful  in  manner.  They  are  well  paid  and 
looked  after,  but  too  many  of  them  squander  money 
and  vitality  in  fighting  off  the  demon  of  loneliness. 
The  advent  of  a number  of  married  ladies  who 
have  organized  social  gaieties  has  of  late  reduced 
the  drinking  and  gaming ; but  I have  met  nothing 
so  sad  as  the  utter  ruination  of  some  of  these 
splendid  fellows  in  the  stews  of  Lima.  It  is  a pity 
that  a steadying  influence,  such  as  the  Y.  M.  C.  A., 
cannot  be  planted  among  these  virile  workers 
above  the  clouds. 

THE  INDIANS  OF  THE  SIERRA 

Until  lately  the  Indian  employees  of  the  com- 
pany housed  themselves  and  their  families  in  low 
cave-kennels,  with  walls  of  loose  stones  and  roofs 
of  scraps  of  sheet-iron.  Within  the  last  two  years, 
however,  the  management  has  provided  plastered 
and  floored  cottages  for  its  men,  while  the  com- 
pany physician,  Dr.  W.  F.  Bailey,  by  means  of 
persuasion  and  fines  has  suppressed  the  filthy  hab- 
its of  the  Indians  and  freed  the  camp  from  typhus 
and  smallpox. 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  51 

The  Indian  miners  have  red  cheeks,  magnificent 
chests,  and  strong  back  muscles,  but  their  arms 
and  legs  are  poorly  developed.  As  porters  they 
are  wonderful,  but  as  laborers  they  cannot  com- 
pare with  Mike  with  his  dudeen.  They  are 
specialized  for  the  altura,  for,  if  they  descend  to 
the  coast,  lowland  insects  infect  them  with  diseases 
and  parasites  to  which  they  are  virgin,  while  the 
dense  air  leaves  them  an  excess  of  breathing  ca- 
pacity which  makes  their  lungs  a nesting-place  for 
the  bacilli  of  tuberculosis.  If  they  are  to  live  on 
the  coast,  they  ought  to  be  brought  down  at  an 
early  age.  The  army  recruits  from  the  Sierra  are 
kept  at  Lima  only  two  or  three  months,  and  then 
placed  in  upland  posts.  This  specialization  of 
physique  explains  why  the  malaria-depleted  labor 
force  of  the  coast  estates  is  not  renewed  by  migra- 
tion from  the  teeming  highland,  and  why  the  coast 
population  is  stationary. 

From  the  Indians  of  the  malarious  tributaries 
of  the  Amazon  the  highlander  has  caught  a dread 
of  night  air  which  prompts  him  to  muffle  his 
mouth,  although  in  this  altitude  insect  pests  are 
few.  The  infants  are  small  at  birth  and  show  lit- 
tle stamina,  for  not  more  than  two  out  of  five  live 
a year.  The  survivors,  however,  endure  well 
enough  the  harrow  tooth  of  a hard  existence. 
The  men  make  extraordinary  recoveries  from  ter- 
rible burns  and  wounds,  while  the  mother  who  has 
just  brought  forth  a child  in  the  midst  of  a circle 
of  women  helpers  rises  and  goes  about  her  work 
without  incurring  fever.  The  women  wear  a lot 


52 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


of  woolen  skirts,  and  wash  tliem  scrupulously,  but 
never  bathe.  Doctor  Bailey  washed  one  of  his 
first  Indian  patients,  and  the  man  promptly  died 
of  pneumonia.  Since  then  the  doctor  respects 
their  prejudice  against  water. 

Every  native  miner  carries  a quid  of  coca- 
leaves,  which  must  be  chewed  with  a little  lime  in 
order  to  get  the  coveted  cocaine  effect.  In  Bolivia 
they  are  chewed  with  an  element  derived  from  the 
ashes  of  corn-cobs,  and  sold  in  cakes  called  lluyta. 
The  chewing  of  coca-leaves  without  lluyta  brings 
on  madness.  In  the  department  of  La  Paz  alone 
are  gathered  5000  tons  of  coca-leaves  a year,  worth 
$2,000,000,  for  wherever  the  Indian  is  under  a 
strain,  in  the  mines,  in  the  Chilean  saltpeter  works, 
or  on  the  sugar  plantations  of  northern  Argentina, 
he  will  have  his  quid.  Coca-chewing  wards  off 
weariness,  so  that  the  Indian  can  trot  for  days,  or 
swing  a pick  for  thirty  hours  on  a stretch,  yet 
never  feel  tired.  The  coca-chewer  longs  intensely 
for  his  quid,  and  without  it  he  has  no  strength.  It 
is  a mystery  how  coca  enables  the  worker  to  work 
on  less  food  than  would  otherwise  be  necessary. 
Is  it  a nutriment!  Does  it  enable  the  system  to 
extract  more  sustenance  from  food?  Is  it  a means 
of  borrowing  from  the  future?  Or  does  it  tap 
those  deeper  layers  of  energy  which,  according  to 
William  James,  most  of  us  go  through  life  without 
using?  Quien  sabef 

Excessive  coca-chewing  is  the  foe  of  longevity 
and  resistance  to  disease.  The  look  of  stupidity 
on  the  Indian  face  is  often  chargeable  to  coca,  just 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  53 

as  the  fog  that  wraps  the  mind  of  many  a Chinese 
peasant  is  opium-smoke.  The  infants  of  women 
who  chew  to  excess  are  said  to  be  very  puny  and 
weak  at  birth.  The  saturation  of  the  system  with 
cocaine  results  in  relative  insensibility  to  cuts, 
burns,  and  minor  surgical  operations.  Unlike  al- 
cohol, it  does  not  disturb  motor  control  or  derange 
the  functions  of  the  brain.  No  one  doubts,  how- 
ever, that  coca  is  a great  factor  in  the  destruction 
of  the  Indian  race. 

HORRIBLE  ANDEAN  DISEASES 

There  is  a horrid  fascination  in  the  strange  and 
ghastly  diseases  one  meets  with  in  these  parts. 
In  the  coastal  valleys  there  is  a well-defined  zone 
distinguished  by  the  presence  of  verrugas,  a dan- 
gerous fever  attended  by  eruptions.  In  the  build- 
ing of  the  Central  Railway,  fully  seven  thousand 
lives  were  lost  from  this  cause.  In  1909,  out  of  a 
force  of  two  thousand  men  in  tunnel  work  on  this 
line,  two  hundred  died  of  verrugas.  Every  year 
the  medical  students  in  Lima  lay  wreaths  on  the 
grave  of  Carrion,  the  young  student  of  medicine 
who  thirty  years  ago  inoculated  himself  with  ver- 
rugas in  order  to  study  it,  and  during  the  eighteen 
days  before  his  death  cheerfully  made  observa- 
tions and  took  notes  on  the  course  of  the  malady. 
Only  in  1913  did  the  researches  of  the  government 
entomologist,  Dr.  Townsend  of  Kansas,  establish 
that  the  transmitter  of  verrugas  is  a small  night- 
flying  gnat  especially  abundant  in  the  ill-famed 
Verrugas  Canon. 


54 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


More  terrible  yet  is  the  uta,  a hideous  skin  dis- 
ease haunting  the  higher  valleys  of  the  Andes. 
Only  five  days  before  my  arrival  in  Smelter  an 
American  had  died  of  it  in  the  hospital  after  a 
ghastly  destruction  of  the  flesh  of  the  face.  One 
may  divine  what  takes  place  from  the  fact  that  the 
word  “uta”  is  a Quichua  word  meaning  to  rot. 
That  the  ulcerations  spread  from  a reddish  pimple 
resembling  an  inflamed  sting  causes  a widespread 
belief  that  uta,  like  verrugas,  is  insect-borne. 
Certain  little  repulsive  clay  figures  from  the  Inca 
period  which  seem  to  portray  the  victims  of  uta 
suggest  that  the  disease  existed  in  Peru  before  the 
coming  of  the  white  man.  To-day  one  meets  occa- 
sionally a man  who  muffles  his  face  to  hide  the  sick- 
ening ravages  of  the  disease.  In  its  very  early 
stages  uta  may  be  cured  by  cauterization,  but  later 
nothing  can  be  done  for  the  victim. 

AREQUIPA  AND  THE  DESERT 

The  gateway  of  southern  Peru  is  Mollendo, 
a tin  town  of  the  desert  type,  the  existence  of 
which  revolves  about  the  steamers  that  halt  in  the 
roadstead  and  the  ten-inch  main  that  from  Are- 
quipa,  105  miles  away  and  half  a league  above  it, 
supplies  about  half  the  water  the  townspeople 
need.  The  up-train  runs  south  for  ten  miles  along 
the  beach  past  a glorious  surf,  then  turns  inland 
across  a little  delta  blooming  like  a garden  with 
the  aid  of  water  from  an  imperceptible  river. 
The  line  between  desert  and  verdure  is  as  sharp 
and  clear  as  if  the  plain  had  been  cut  out  of  green 


Hucksters  at  Ci 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  57 

cardboard  with  scissors.  Half  a stride  carries 
you  from  dust  into  alfalfa.  This  pregnant  depth 
of  contrast  is,  perhaps,  the  secret  of  the  intoxica- 
tion irrigated  horticulture  produces  in  people  bred 
in  the  rain  belt.  Here,  at  last,  by  the  miracles  he 
works  through  his  control  of  water,  man  seems  to 
realize  the  dream  of  the  scientist,  “I  want  to  take 
life  in  my  hands  and  play  with  it.  ’ ’ 

Our  route  follows  up  a water-course  among 
rounded  hills  over  which  hovers  a faint  green,  like 
the  light  that  seems  to  hover  above  certain  rare 
Oriental  rugs.  It  is  a scant  and  fleeting  vegetation 
evoked  by  the  light  rains  that  fall  here  in  the  win- 
ter. Our  train  rolls  into  an  oasis,  and  bundles  of 
sugar-cane  joints  are  offered  at  the  car  windows. 
To  the  right  we  look  down  into  an  eastern  para- 
dise, a long  tongue  of  emerald  cane-fields  and  or- 
chards winding  between  the  salmon-hued  walls  of 
a canon.  There  is  something  heart-uplifting  about 
riotous  green  in  a setting  of  desert,  and  one  un- 
derstands why  the  Oriental ’s  abode  of  the  blest  is 
projected  against  an  oasis  background. 

As  we  rise,  the  vast  foam-edged  Pacific  widens 
behind  us.  At  three  thousand  feet  we  come  out 
upon  a mesa  and  strike  across  a brown-red,  hot- 
looking  pampa.  Rain  is  unknown  here,  so  there  is 
no  green.  The  soft,  rounded  hills  have  yielded 
to  rocky  buttes,  with  white  sand  piled  like  snow- 
drifts about  their  base.  Pathetic  crosses  near  the 
track  mark  the  grave  of  navvies  who  died  in  the 
making  of  this  road.  At  Haugri  the  volcano  El 
Misti,  under  whose  shadow  lies  Arequipa,  lifts  in 


58 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


sight.  It  is  symmetrical,  like  Fuji-yama,  but  not 
so  slender.  Flanking  the  pampa,  appear  bone- 
dry,  white-streaked  mountains,  like  the  skeleton 
of  a dead  range  or  the  spinal  column  of  some 
mammoth  saurian.  Ahead,  the  plain  looks  to  be 
dotted  with  thousands  of  pools,  which  presently 
resolve  themselves  into  silvery  sand-dunes. 

These  are  the  famed  medanos,  which  march 
across  the  plain  from  southwest  to  northeast,  in 
line  with  the  prevailing  winds,  at  the  pace  of  sev- 
enty feet  a year.  Moving  sand-dunes  are  a famil- 
iar desert  feature,  but  these  are  unique  by  reason 
of  their  symmetry.  They  form  great  crescents 
three  yards  high,  and  tapering  delicately  into 
sharp  horns  perhaps  a hundred  feet  apart,  point- 
ing always  away  from  the  wind.  The  windward 
slope  of  the  drift  is  gentle,  but  the  inner  slope  is  as 
steep  as  sand  will  lie.  The  fact  that  the  particles 
jump  about  three  inches  at  a time  gives  the  surface 
of  the  medano  the  effect  of  watered  silk. 

Since  the  pampa  existed  and  the  trade-wind 
blew,  these  geometrical  figures  of  pure  sand  have 
been  marching  across  the  pampa  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. What  becomes  of  the  sand,  and  why  does 
not  the  supply  run  out?  Now,  the  sand  falls  into 
the  brawling  Chile,  and  the  Chile,  no  doubt,  carries 
it  down  into  the  Pacific.  There  it  is  possible  that 
alongshore  currents  sweep  it  south  until  it  is 
thrown  up  on  the  beach,  to  be  picked  up  by  the 
wind  and  started  again  on  its  eternal  triangle.  A 
mile  and  a quarter  a century  the  dune  moves,  so 
that  the  one  now  slowly  drowning  in  the  river  may 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  59 

have  started  up  from  the  ocean  before  Moses  lay 
among  the  bulrushes. 

Arequipa  never  dares  forget  this  is  a land  of 
earthquakes.  No  building  rises  above  two  stories. 
The  vaulted  roof  of  the  cathedral  does  not  soar, 
and  its  towers  come  quickly  to  a point,  as  if  afraid 
of  the  upper  air.  Ceilings  are  barrel-vaulted.  In 
concrete  walls  now  rising  one  sees  iron  rails  set  as 
stiffeners.  In  the  splendid  new  hospital,  one  of 
the  finest  individual  gifts  to  be  found  in  South 
America,  great  patches  of  plastering  are  gone, 
while  about  the  plaza  linger  traces  of  the  terremoto 
of  a few  months  ago. 

With  its  snow-crowned  volcano,  its  glistening 
towers,  its  convents  and  cathedral,  its  great  plaza, 
and  its  houses  tinted  soft  shades, — green,  azure, 
cream,  ocher,  salmon-pink,  and  terra-cotta, — Are- 
quipa is  one  of  the  world’s  beauties,  or,  rather, 
would  be  if  only,  like  Naples,  she  had  water  to  look 
at  herself  in.  Her  clear  air,  sunshine,  and  brac- 
ing climate  have  made  her  a famous  seat  of  cul- 
ture, and  this  high-spirited  little  city  of  35,000, 
lying  amid  savage  solitudes,  is  renowned  for  the 
leaders  she  has  given  Peru.  The  combination  of 
spring  climate,  a university,  and  religious  ardor 
seems  to  produce  the  forceful  type  of  character. 

The  city  is  the  heart  of  a lovely  oasis  about 
eight  miles  by  ten,  nourishing  some  60,000  people. 
Its  aorta  is  the  Chile  River,  the  water  of  which  is 
used  as  far  as  it  will  go.  Adjacent  are  great 
mesas  of  disintegrating  lava,  which  need  only 
water  to  burst  into  bloom.  Here  is  a fine  oppor- 


60 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


tunity  for  a reservoir  at  the  head  of  the  valley 
that  will  capture  the  excess  of  the  rainy  season, 
and  water  the  mesas.  Such  a project  is  mooted, 
but  the  cultivators  oppose  it  because  it  would  rear 
up  for  them  new  competitors ! 

Arequipa  is  a city  to  attract  an  Oriental.  There 
are  twenty  Japanese  merchants  here,  and  many 
Syrians  have  filtered  in.  While  visiting  schools, 
in  four  cases  I inquired  about  some  little  fellow 
with  a beautiful  brow  who  was  the  smallest  yet  the 
brightest  pupil  in  the  class,  and  in  every  instance 
he  turned  out  to  be  Syrian.  There  are  many  Are- 
quipa families  that  have  never  mixed  with  the 
mestizos,  so  that  here  is  a good  place  to  appraise 
the  stock  Spain  sent  to  her  colonies.  I confess  I 
was  not  prepared  to  find  so  much  of  the  human 
thoroughbred.  Among  the  no rmalista's  one  sees 
many  fine  faces.  Quite  often  one  comes  upon  the 
Greek  type  among  the  women  school-teachers,  and 
all  are  feminine  to  their  finger-tips.  In  the  white 
schools  well-molded  brows  and  clear-cut  features 
seem  to  be  commoner  than  in  the  average  Ameri- 
can school-room.  In  the  schools  which  include 
Indian  and  mestizo  children,  muddy  complexions, 
poor  features,  and  dull  faces  are  frequent.  There 
is  no  question  that  the  white  children  here  are 
cleverer  than  ours  of  the  same  age.  In  declama- 
tion they  show  fire  and  untaught  grace  of  gesture. 
The  limit  factor  for  the  whites  here  is  not  brains, 
but  character,  and  their  faults  of  character  seem 
to  be  chargeable  to  the  traditions  from  the  old  bad 
regime  of  the  viceroys. 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  61 


THE  PLATEAU 

It  is  not  from  Arequipa  that  one  can  know  El 
Misti.  It  is  when  you  have  been  climbing  for 
half  a day,  and  from  an  altitude  of  14,000  feet  you 
see  him  forty  or  fifty  miles  away  through  the 
translucent  air  that  reveals  the  cloud  shadows 
trailing  majestically  across  his  face,  that  El  Misti 
looks  the  giant  he  is.  Across  the  leagues  of 
mountain  and  desert  he  stands  out  so  huge  and 
clear  that  you  fancy  with  a good  glass  you  could 
make  out  the  iron  cross  on  his  summit,  fixed  there 
in  compliance  with  the  Pope’s  request  to  the  faith- 
ful throughout  the  world  to  mark  the  new  century 
by  erecting  crosses  on  peaks. 

Even  at  14,500  feet  one  comes  on  big  herds  of 
llamas  grazing  on  the  paramo  in  the  midst  of  fall- 
ing snow.  Little  bands  of  fawn-colored  vicugnas, 
creatures  about  the  size  of  an  antelope,  and  quite 
as  graceful,  hound  away  as  the  train  passes.  It 
is  illegal  to  hunt  them,  but  somehow  rugs  made  of 
their  exquisitely  soft  fur  are  always  to  be  had  for 
forty  or  fifty  dollars  apiece  in  the  towns  on  Lake 
Titicaca.  At  this  altitude  one  sees  great  herds 
of  mingled  llamas,  merinos,  and  alpacas.  The 
former  eat  the  coarse  bunch-grass  the  alnacas  will 
not  touch.  Strange  to  say,  the  alpacas  do  not 
thrive  under  13,000  feet.  They  live  on  a very 
fine  short  grass  which  they  nibble  so  close  to  the 
ground  that  the  grit  keeps  their  teeth  properly 
worn  down.  On  the  lush  grass  of  the  lower  levels 
their  teeth  grow  so  long  they  cannot  graze,  and 


62 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


they  starve  while  knee-deep  in  plenty.  Sweet  are 
the  uses  of  adversity ! 

Surely  it  is  a cheerless  existence  that  the  In- 
dians lead  on  this  lofty  table-land.  Home  is  a 
thatched  adobe  hut  in  the  corner  of  a farmyard 
fenced  with  sod  or  loose  stones,  in  which  are 
folded  at  night  the  merinos  and  the  llamas. 
Lonely  and  insignificant  the  little  hut  stands  in 
the  vast  cloud-shadowed,  wind-swept  spaces.  No 
trees,  no  shrubbery  or  flowers,  no  birds,  no  color, 
no  roads,  no  neighbors  or  town  to  visit — nothing 
but  the  dreary  moor,  the  lowering  clouds  and  the 
moan  of  the  chill  wind.  Even  the  Greenlanders 
rejoice  in  the  long  Arctic  summer.  But  here  there 
is  no  change  of  seasons,  and  it  is  always  cold. 
Fuel  there  is  none,  save  straw,  llama  dung  or 
chemisa,  a huge  fungus  which  grows  on  rocks,  and 
it  must  all  be  saved  for  cooking.  Never  once  in 
their  lives  have  these  people  been  comfortably 
warm,  nor  do  they  even  know  that  there  is  warmth 
in  the  world.  Such,  perhaps,  will  be  the  survivors 
of  our  race  three  million  years  hence  when  the 
advancing  frigid  zones  have  nearly  met  and  at  the 
equator  man  makes  his  last  stand  against  the  em- 
pire of  frost  and  death. 

In  this  upper  world  one  becomes  very  curious 
as  to  the  limit  of  cultivation.  In  Ecuador,  time 
and  again,  one  sees  agriculture  ceasing  or  recom- 
mencing at  11,000  feet.  Crossing  this  plain,  I 
saw  potatoes  and  barley  growing  at  12,800  feet. 
North  from  Lake  Titicaca,  however,  there  is  a 
benign  air  drainage  that  carries  the  crops  much 


PERU,  ROOF  OF  THE  CONTINENT  63 

higher.  At  Santa  Rosa  there  is  cultivation  at 
13,400  feet.  One  would  take  this  for  the  limit,  but 
later  I found  potato  patches  at  La  Raya  on  the 
divide  between  Lake  Titicaca  and  the  Amazon, 
14,170  feet  above  the  sea.  But  in  La  Paz  I talked 
with  a Brooklyn  man  who  has  a glacial  barony 
over  on  the  Sorata  range  east  of  Lake  Titicaca, 
and  he  declares  that  on  his  place  you  can  grow 
barley  at  15,500  feet,  provided  that  you  shield  it 
with  a wall,  so  that  the  wind  will  not  blow  it  out 
of  the  ground.  This,  then,  is,  I suppose,  the 
upper  limit  of  cultivation,  not  only  for  Peru,  but 
for  the  world,  for  nowhere  else  on  the  planet  has 
man  the  aid  of  the  tropical  sun  in  pushing  tillage 
to  Alpine  heights. 


CHAPTER  ni 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 

CUZCO,  more  than  two  miles  aloft,  once  city 
of  Manco  Ccapac,  center  of  the  Inca  culture, 
and  capital  of  a great  aboriginal  empire,  with  its 
many  furlongs  of  ancient  walls,  its  Temple  of  the 
Sun,  its  splendid  churches,  and  its  megalithic  for- 
tress of  Sacsahuaman,  is,  to  lovers  of  the  past,  the 
most  fascinating  spot  in  the  New  World.  One 
day,  surely,  it  will  be  a great  goal  of  pilgrimage, 
like  Rome,  Jerusalem,  or  Cairo.  Within  a decade 
or  two  Cuzco  will  possess  comfortable  hotels  from 
which  parties  of  “see- America-first”  travelers 
will  tour  in  automobiles,  visiting  within  thirty 
leagues  the  greatest  monuments  and  the  most  im- 
pressive mountain  scenery  in  the  Western  Hemi- 
sphere. A Cook  who  should  organize  a good  tour- 
ist service,  make  known  the  wonders  of  the  region, 
and  turn  in  this  direction  a stream  of  appreciative 
travelers,  would  make  his  fortune,  while  at  the 
same  time  giving  encouragement  to  American 
archaeology. 

Since  the  uncovering  by  the  Yale  expedition,  led 
by  Professor  Hiram  Bingham,  of  the  wonderful 
stone  city  Machepicchu,  perched  two  thousand 
feet  above  the  brawling  Urubamba  at  a point 

about  two-days’  journey  from  Cuzco, — a relic  of 

64 


Indian  woman,  vicinity  of  Quito  Indian  women,  Chinchero 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


67 


the  pre-Incan  period  of  which  the  Incas  them- 
selves knew  nothing, — the  intellectuals  of  Cuzco 
have  been  in  a ferment  over  aboriginal  America. 
At  every  social  gathering  you  hear  animated  dis- 
cussions of  ancient  walls  and  monuments,  prehis- 
toric conquests  and  migrations,  Kechua  language 
and  customs.  Dr.  Giesecke,  the  American  rector 
of  the  University  of  Cuzco,  has  traveled  more  than 
ten  thousand  miles  visiting  and  searching  for  the 
relics  of  the  past. 

“Do  you  expect  more  finds?”  I asked  him. 

“Many,”  he  replied  emphatically.  “Why,  as 
yet  we  haven’t  more  than  scratched  the  surface.” 

Portions  of  fourteen  palaces  of  Inca  rulers  line 
the  streets  of  Cuzco,  and  much  of  the  walls  of  the 
Temple  of  the  Sun  has  been  incorporated  into  the 
Church  of  San  Domingo.  These  walls  are  of 
finely  cut  blocks  laid  in  courses  without  cement. 
It  has  often  been  said  that  the  joints  in  this  wall 
will  not  admit  the  point  of  a knife-blade.  Not 
only  is  this  true,  but  a needle,  or  even  a hair,  can- 
not be  inserted  between  these  great  blocks.  No 
doubt  this  is  the  finest  mason’s  work  in  the  world; 
yet  the  microscope  shows  that  these  stones  were 
wrought  not  with  iron  or  steel,  but  with  tools  of 
champi,  an  alloy  of  copper  and  tin ! 

The  front  of  the  wall  inclines  a little  away 
from  the  street,  and  the  corners  are  beautifully 
rounded.  The  Incas  were  ignorant  of  the  arch, 
so  a gateway  or  doorway  is  spanned  by  a single 
great  beam  of  stone,  giving  the  effect  of  an  Egyp- 
tian portal.  On  certain  adjacent  blocks  in  the 


68 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


temple  wall  the  mason  left  little  knobs,  which  seem 
to  be  grouped  in  a definite  order.  The  prior  of 
the  convent  suggested  that  these  projections  rep- 
resent quippus,  or  writing  by  means  of  knots  in 
strings,  and  give  the  date  and  builder  of  the  wall. 
In  some  stones  there  are  many  holes,  drilled  for 
the  purpose  of  attaching  the  plates  of  gold  form- 
ing the  great  image  of  the  sun,  which  later  were 
removed  in  order  to  make  up  the  ransom  of  Ata- 
hualpa. 

Not  only  are  there  thousands  of  square  yards  of 
Inca  wall  visible  in  Cuzco,  hut  unknown  stretches 
of  such  walls  have  been  plastered  over.  Some 
day  they  will  be  reverently  restored  by  men  more 
capable  of  appreciating  that  wonderful  indigenous 
civilization  than  the  avaricious  adventurers  who 
brutally  destroyed  it.  Although  the  laws  of 
Peru  protect  Inca  remains,  vandalism  continues. 
Poking  about  the  inner  courts  of  Cuzco,  I came 
upon  masons,  red-handed,  pulling  down  a fine  old 
wall,  with  stones  as  big  as  a bureau,  in  order  to 
get  cheap  material  for  some  mean  construction  of 
their  own. 

But  the  stupendous  stonework  of  the  vast  for- 
tress above  Cuzco  belongs  to  a period  long  before 
the  sun-worshipers.  Of  the  origin  of  these  walls 
the  Incas  knew  nothing.  They  are  monuments, 
perhaps,  of  the  same  civilization  that,  at  Tia- 
huanacu,  a few  miles  south  of  Lake  Titicaca,  at 
an  elevation  of  12,900  feet,  left  the  ruins  of  a city 
of  a million  inhabitants,  which  the  archfeologists 
can  account  for  only  by  supposing  it  dates  from  a 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


69 


period  when  the  Andean  plateau  was  thousands 
of  feet  lower  than  it  now  is  and  enjoyed  a milder 
climate.  At  the  fortress  of  Ollantay-tambo,  a 
day’s  ride  from  Cuzco,  there  is  a row  of  six  por- 
phyry slabs  ranging  in  height  from  eleven  to 
thirteen  feet,  five  to  seven  feet  wide,  and  three  to 
six  feet  thick.  Another  block  is  fourteen  by  five 
by  three.  These  stones  must  have  been  sawed 
out,  for  at  the  bottom  of  certain  cuts  one  finds  the 
thin  groove  left  by  a stone  saw.  Half-way  up  the 
slope  from  the  Urubamba  lie  the  “Tired  Stones,” 
which  for  some  unknown  reason  the  ancient  work- 
men abandoned  on  their  way  to  the  fortress.  One 
appeared  to  be  nine  feet  by  seven  by  five,  another 
fifteen  by  ten,  with  three  feet  of  thickness  visible 
above  ground.  All  these  came  from  a quarry 
across  the  river,  and  three  thousand  feet  up  the 
mountain.  How  such  monoliths  were  brought  to 
their  present  resting-place  beggars  the  imagina- 
tion. 

In  a large  museum  of  Inca  relics  collected  by 
a Cuzco  barrister, — battle-axes,  hammers,  combs, 
needles,  utensils,  pottery,  ornaments,  etc., — one’s 
attention  is  fixed  by  a dozen  mummified  creatures, 
apparently  prisoners  of  war  that  were  buried 
alive  in  a sitting  posture.  The  agony  and  despair 
expressed  in  the  faces  and  in  the  position  of  head 
and  hands  haunts  the  beholder  for  many  a night. 
That  any  fellow-creature  should  have  suffered  so ! 
The  mouth  is  open  and  the  head  thrown  back, 
while  the  hands  clutch  the  face,  the  fingers  sink- 
ing into  the  flesh  or  the  eye-sockets.  In  some 


70 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


cases  the  finger-nails  have  torn  deep  into  the 
cheek.  One  poor  wretch  had  had  his  abdomen 
opened  and  his  knees  brought  up  and  squeezed 
inside  his  ribs.  From  the  torture-twisted  face  it 
is  inferred  that  the  fiendish  operation  was  in- 
flicted on  the  living  man.  In  the  Pompeian 
Museum  at  Naples  there  are  certain  hideous  casts 
of  petrified  agony,  but  nothing  to  match  the  des- 
iccated horror  on  the  faces  of  these  shriveled 
victims  of  prehistoric  ferocity. 

Nowhere  in  the  world  has  cranial  deformation 
prevailed  so  extensively  as  it  did  in  ancient  Peru. 
In  this  collection  are  skulls  elongated  by  pressure 
during  the  growing  years  till  they  became  like  the 
head  of  a dog,  or  even  assumed  the  form  of  a fat 
cucumber.  A “cradle-board”  applied  at  the  back 
of  the  head,  caused  the  skull  to  flare  out  behind 
into  two  lobes.  The  owner  could  have  donned  one 
of  our  stiff  hats,  only  he  would  have  had  to  wear 
it  crosswise.  We  know  that  there  were  “styles” 
in  head  deformation,  and  that  the  style  changed 
from  time  to  time  within  the  same  tribe.  Several 
crania  show  successful  trepanning,  and  in  one 
skull  a second  operation  had  been  performed 
within  the  healed-over  orifice  left  by  the  first  tre- 
panning. The  finder  of  this  curiosity  wanted 
$7500  for  it,  but  finally  accepted  $4. 

In  the  skeletons  of  pre-Columbian  Indians  with 
which  the  energy  of  Curator  Tello,  Harvard 
doctor  of  philosophy  and  pure-blood  Indian,  has 
recently  enriched  the  museum  at  Lima,  one  comes 
on  vestiges  of  diseases  quite  strange  to  us.  One 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


71 


malady,  often  fatal,  left  coral-like  growths  in  the 
roof  of  the  eye-orbit,  or  ate  the  bones  of  the 
cranium  into  a sieve-like  condition.  Many  skulls 
show  the  ear  canal  nearly  closed  by  little  pearl- 
like bony  growths.  Very  frequent,  also,  was  a 
queer  alteration  of  the  “ball”  of  the  femur,  which 
fits  into  the  pelvic  socket.  The  neck  was  short- 
ened to  almost  nothing,  while  the  head  was  flat- 
tened and  broadened  till  it  resembled  a mushroom. 
Such  a malformation  must  surely  have  spoiled 
the  swing  of  the  leg,  but  luckily  the  mountain 
Indians  seem  to  have  been  exempt  from  it. 

These  skeletal  traces  of  strange  diseases  stir 
the  imagination  like  tusk-marks  of  the  saber- 
tooth monsters  of  Tertiary.  What  consuming 
of  living  flesh,  what  horrid  defacements,  what 
frightful  pain,  may  have  accompanied  these  un- 
known diseases  that  recorded  themselves  in  bone, 
one  can  only  conjecture.  Cuvier  reconstructed  an 
extinct  animal  from  a single  bone, — not  very  ac- 
curately, it  afterward  appeared, — and  there  ought 
to  be  some  way  of  reconstructing  from  its  osseous 
traces  an  extinct  disease  which  may  have  made 
the  life  of  our  vanished  fellow-mortals  a horror. 

AN  INCA  COUNTRY  SEAT 

Three  hours  in  the  saddle  from  Cuzco  is 
Chinchero,  a town  of  almost  pure  Indian  popula- 
tion. Its  plaza  occupies  the  site  of  a great  Inca 
palace  the  niched  side  wall  of  which  is  still  stand- 
ing. Terraced  fields  as  even  as  a billard-table, 
sustained  by  laborious  walls  of  cut  granite,  line 


72 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  slope  below  the  palace.  Royal  gardens  they 
must  have  been,  tilled  to  perfection,  for  no  mere 
hind  would  rear  such  walls  for  his  fields.  Then 
comes  a granite  knob,  with  a great  number  of 
seats,  stairways,  and  passages  cut  with  beautiful 
precision  in  the  living  rock.  Here,  no  doubt,  were 
wont  to  sit  the  Incas  while  they  took  their  ease 
and  feasted  their  eyes  with  the  sight  of  the  land 
they  had  blessed  with  peace  and  prosperity.  On 
the  one  side  they  could  see  verdant  vales  and 
slopes,  bearing  shelves  of  abundance,  against  a 
remote  background  of  red  ridges,  and  beyond  that 
a glorious  amphitheater  of  purple,  snow-capped 
mountains.  On  the  other  side  a wild  glen  drew 
their  glance  down  into  a darkling  canon  leading 
precipitately  into  the  Urubamba,  thousands  of 
feet  below.  One  longs  to  enter  into  the  feelings 
of  these  chiefs  as,  followed  by  attendants,  they 
descended  from  their  common  hall  to  lounge  in 
their  lookout  seats  through  a bright  afternoon  and 
watch  the  living  panorama  pass  through  its  ever- 
changing  phases  of  light  and  color  and  shadow. 

We  entered  the  church  on  the  terrace  above  the 
plaza, — a church  built,  perhaps,  before  the  landing 
of  the  Pilgrims, — and  found  it  packed  with  seven 
hundred  Indians,  every  woman  in  her  striped 
home-spun  shawl,  every  man  in  his  striped  pon- 
cho. Not  this  side  the  Llama  Temple  in  Peking 
have  I come  upon  a spectacle  so  weird  and  out- 
landish. The  eyes  of  the  kneeling  worshipers 
followed  the  chanting  procession  as  it  wound  its 
way  about  the  church,  and  at  the  supreme  instant 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


73 


of  the  mass  they  lifted  their  hands,  pressed  palm 
to  palm,  and  yearned  toward  the  altar  in  a mute, 
but  passionate,  adoration.  The  music,  hearing 
no  kinship  to  any  church  music  I know,  combined 
with  the  high-colored  frescos  which  lined  the 
walls,  the  strange  aspect  of  the  worshipers,  and 
the  ecstasy  of  their  manner,  made  me  feel  that  I 
was  witnessing  some  pagan  rite  in  Tibet  rather 
than  Christian  worship  in  Peru. 

After  services  we  met  the  gobernador,  sole  re- 
presentative of  the  central  government  among 
four  thousand  souls;  the  alcalde , or  mayor,  like- 
wise a Peruvian;  and  the  twelve  Indian  alcaldes 
who  aid  him  in  preserving  peace.  Each  of  these 
last  bears  with  pride  his  vara,  or  silver-mounted 
staff  of  office,  the  symbol  of  his  authority. 

THE  ATTITUDE  OF  THE  NATIVES 

There  could  be  no  more  eloquent  testimony  to 
the  barbarities  of  Pizarro  and  his  ruffians  than 
the  timid,  propitiatory  attitude  of  the  Indians  to- 
ward all  white  men.  Every  man,  woman,  or  child 
we  met  on  the  road  doffed  the  hat  when  we  passed, 
and  respectfully  wished  us  “ Buenos  dias”  or 
“Buenas  tardes.,>  In  the  remoter  districts  an 
Indian  who  sees  a white  man  coming  toward  him 
along  the  trail  will  make  a long  and  toilsome  de- 
tour to  avoid  meeting  him.  If  you  approach  an 
Indian  abruptly  to  ask  him  a question,  he  will 
fall  on  his  knees,  put  up  an  arm  to  shield  his  face, 
and  cry,  “Don’t  hurt  me,  master!”  The  Indian 
never  thinks  of  chaffering  over  the  price  of  his 


74 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


services.  The  patron  pays  a porter  what  he 
chooses,  and  if  the  Indian  murmurs,  a harsh  “Be- 
gone!” causes  him  to  shrink  away. 

From  a certain  break  in  the  bank  of  the  road 
that  leads  down  into  Cuzco  from  the  high  country 
behind  one  gets  a wonderful  view  of  roofs,  domes, 
and  towers  lying  a thousand  feet  below  in  an  in- 
comparable setting  of  glens  and  foot-hills.  Com- 
ing or  going,  there  is  no  sight  of  Cuzco  to  be  had 
other  than  this  single  shining  vision.  Now,  every 
native  who  passes  this  way  stops,  removes  his 
hat,  and,  gazing  at  the  sacred  capital  of  his  fore- 
fathers, murmurs  in  Kechua,  “0  Cuzco,  great 
city,  I greet  thee!”  What  must  be  the  strength 
of  the  feeling  that  thus  expresses  itself  after  ten 
lifetimes  in  which  to  forget  the  old  independence! 

In  Cuzco  I met  a gentleman  of  education  and 
travel  who  is  said  to  be  the  only  living  lineal  de- 
scendant of  the  Incas.  He  has  great  influence 
with  the  native  element  and  voices  their  bitter- 
ness and  their  aspirations.  He  declares  that  the 
politics  of  Peru  is  a struggle  between  the  Spanish 
mestizos  of  Lima  and  the  coast  and  the  natives 
of  Cuzco  and  the  interior,  and  predicts  an  upris- 
ing unless  Cuzco  is  made  the  capital  pf  the  na- 
tion. He  even  dreams  of  a Kechua  republic,  with 
Cuzco  its  capital  and  the  United  States  its  guar- 
antor, as  she  is  guarantor  of  the  Cuban  republic. 
“No  wonder  Lima  intends  at  all  hazards  to  keep 
control,”  he  exclaimed.  “Peru  is  about  to  make 
a new  foreign  loan  of  $35,000,000.  Of  the  pro- 
ceeds certain  families  in  Lima  will  contrive  to 


Gobernador,  alcalde  and  native  alcaldes  with  staves  of  office.  ( hinehern 


THE  NATIVE  RACES  77 

absorb  $15,000,000,  leaving  only  a little  over  half 
to  be  expended  for  the  good  of  the  nation.” 

THE  SACKED  VALLEY 

A day  from  Cuzco  brings  one  down  into  the 
deep,  romantic  valley  of  the  Urubamba,  which  for 
about  a hundred  miles — until  the  river  breaks 
through  the  main  Cordillera  and  descends 
through  the  forested  Montana  to  become  the  Ama- 
zon— constituted  the  heart  of  the  old  native  civi- 
lization. In  western  China  I supposed  I had 
found  the  climax  of  man’s  endeavors  to  extend 
by  a limitless  toil  the  food-bearing  area ; but  the 
prodigies  of  earth  sculpture  along  the  Urubamba 
surpass  even  those  of  garden-like  Szechuen.  The 
valley  floor,  from  half  a mile  to  a mile  in  width, 
has  been  molded  into  beautiful  terraces,  each  of 
some  acres  in  extent,  and  from  six  to  nine  feet 
above  the  next  lower  one.  The  line  of  drop  of 
these  fields  is  a diagonal  between  the  direction  of 
the  river  and  the  slope  from  the  sides  of  the  valley 
toward  the  river.  The  making  of  these  regular 
terraces  was  a work  for  Titans ; yet  it  was  com- 
pleted before  the  Spaniard  appeared  on  the  scene. 

Scarcely  less  wonderful  are  the  narrow  terraces, 
the  andenes,  which  make  a staircase  to  the  height 
of  a thousand  or  even  fifteen  hundred  feet  up  the 
slopes,  in  places  where  some  stream  from  the 
snow-fields  can  be  captured  for  irrigation  and 
led  gurgling  down  from  terrace  to  terrace.  The 
walls  of  the  andenes  are  made  of  rough-fitted 
stones,  and  are  from  four  to  fifteen  feet  high. 


78 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


The  andenes  narrow  as  the  slope  becomes  steeper, 
until  you  find  a wall  twelve  feet  high  built  in 
order  to  gain  for  cultivation  a strip  of  earth  not 
over  a yard  wide.  No  doubt  in  many  cases  the 
earth  was  brought  in  baskets  from  pockets  among 
the  distant  rocks.  Surely  nowhere  on  the  globe 
has  so  much  sweat  been  paid  for  a foot  of  soil  as 
here.  Nowadays  the  population  is  much  sparser 
than  of  yore,  the  food  struggle  is  less  dire,  and 
the  upper  terraces  have  therefore  been  left  wholly 
to  the  weeds. 

The  earth  sculpture  of  this  valley  could  have 
been  produced  only  under  three  conditions. 
First,  a population  multiplying  at  a natural  rate. 
Even  to-day  among  the  Kechuas  reproduction  be- 
gins soon  after  puberty;  “ proving”  precedes 
marriage,  and  the  unmarried  mother  of  a couple 
of  boys  is  a particularly  desirable  person,  because 
boys  are  an  asset.  Second,  lack  of  opportunity 
to  expand.  The  Kechuas  must  have  been  bottled 
up  between  the  warlike  Aymaras  to  the  south  and 
the  savage  wielders  of  the  poisoned  dart  to  the 
north  of  them  in  the  jungles  along  the  lower 
Urubamba.  Third,  a long  period  of  occupancy. 
Only  the  toil  of  several  generations  can  account 
for  such  prodigies  of  earthwork  as  we  find  in  this 
region. 

So  one  imagines  a people  of  few  wants,  unwar- 
like, unadventurous,  home-loving,  as  industrious 
as  the  denizens  of  an  ant-hill,  who,  clad  in  two 
garments,  bore  earth  on  their  backs,  dressed 
stones,  reared  walls,  and  opened  ditches,  content 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


79 


if  the  day’s  work  brought  a fistful  of  beans  or  a 
double  handful  of  parched  corn.  Only  the  occa- 
sional religious  festival,  with  dance  and  a chicha 
debauch,  brightened  the  gray  of  a toilsome  ex- 
istence. So  that  this  remote  valley  is  a peep-hole 
into  the  old  simple  life  of  mankind  before  the  ad- 
vent of  trade  and  wants  and  letters — the  life  of 
Egypt  and  Babylonia,  of  Hittites  and  Etrus- 
cans, before  ever  there  was  Jew  or  Greek  or 
Roman. 

Even  to-day  the  life  of  the  Kechuas  retains  the 
stamp  of  the  primitive.  They  live  in  low,  grass- 
thatched,  one-room  huts  of  mud  or  rough  stone, 
without  windows.  House  and  stable  are  apt  to 
he  continuous,  although  they  are  distinct  budd- 
ings. The  one-handle  plow,  innocent  of  share  or 
mold-board,  is  drawn  by  big  slow-moving  oxen. 
Women  are  in  the  field  as  much  as  the  men, 
although  they  do  not  hold  the  plow  nor  guide  the 
oxen.  Always  the  woman’s  hands  are  busy  work- 
ing wool  into  yarn  or  thread  and  winding  it  on 
the  spindle.  She  it  is  who  hears  the  produce  of 
the  garden  to  distant  markets.  Whatever  she 
has  to  carry  she  puts  into  her  shawl,  lifts  it  to  her 
hack,  and  ties  the  corners  of  the  shawl  across  her 
bosom  so  that  her  hands  may  he  free  for  the 
distaff. 

The  wife  earns  as  much  as  she  costs,  so  in  the 
garb  of  the  maidens  there  is  no  preening  or  prink- 
ing, no  sex  lure.  Bright  color  is  the  only  adorn- 
ment, and  this  is  worn  no  more  by  girls  than  by 
old  women.  The  maiden’s  face  is  rarely  washed, 


80  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

and  there  is  no  effort  to  make  of  her  hair  an 
adornment. 

Sunday  is  drinking  day,  and  every  third  farm- 
house is  a place  of  public  refreshment.  A bunch 
of  gay  flowers  tied  to  a pole  sticking  out  over  the 
road  announces  chicha  (maize  beer)  for  sale;  a 
white  banneret  as  big  as  your  hand  signifies  that 
pisco  (sugar-cane  alcohol)  is  to  be  had.  By  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  most  of  the  liquor  is  gone, 
and  the  signs  of  drunkenness  in  the  wayfarers 
multiply.  But  however  tipsy  the  Indian  becomes, 
he  never  loses  his  awe  of  the  white  man  or  for- 
gets to  doff  his  hat. 

Now  and  then  we  would  hear  the  sweet  and 
plaintive  notes  of  a shepherd’s  pipe,  and  soon 
would  pass  an  Indian  blowing  in  a hollow  joint  of 
cane  with  several  stops.  Or  we  would  meet  a 
girl  pursued  by  swains,  who,  with  their  pipes, 
were  trying  to  make  an  impression  on  her. 

It  is  estimated  that  more  than  a third  of  the 
Indians  of  Peru  belong  to  agricultural  communi- 
ties, which,  like  the  mark  of  our  Germanic  fore- 
fathers and  the  mir  of  Russia,  hold  common  lands 
that  are  distributed  afresh  every  year  to  the 
members.  As  if  to  heighten  its  resemblance  to 
the  mark,  the  Kechua  ayllu  lets  part  of  the  com- 
mon land  lie  fallow  each  season  while  another  part 
is  cultivated.  Here,  as  everywhere  else,  the  com- 
munal system  makes  for  indolence,  unprogressive- 
ness,  and  soil-robbing;  but  it  is  found  that  as 
soon  as  the  common  land  is  broken  up  into  in- 
dividual properties  and  the  ayllu  dissolved,  the 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


81 


Indian  is  pounced  upon  by  the  Peruvian,  who 
swindles  him  out  of  his  land  or  robs  him  of  it 
outright. 


LAKE  TITICACA  AND  BOLIVIA 

There  are  no  rock-ribbed  conservatives  like  the 
Indians  about  Lake  Titicaca.  With  the  steam- 
boat whistle  in  their  ears,  they  insist  on  living 
as  their  fathers  lived.  Women  weave  ponchos 
outdoors  on  their  knees  as  our  Navajo  squaws 
weave  blankets.  The  shops  display  factory  fab- 
rics, but  the  woman  sitting  in  the  plaza,  beside 
her  stock  of  onions  and  mutton  or  knitted  socks 
and  caps,  plies  the  spindle  while  she  waits  for 
customers.  The  Spanish  introduced  the  ass,  the 
horse,  and  the  cow,  but  to  these  late-comers  the 
Indian  denies  the  care  he  lavishes  on  his  dear 
llamas  and  alpacas.  Senor  Belon,  a gentleman  of 
Arequipa  who  has  been  in  the  United  States,  is 
trying  to  introduce  better  breeds  of  merinos,  but 
his  fellow-stock-raisers  laugh  at  him,  and  keep 
on  with  their  small,  run-out  sheep,  good  for  neither 
mutton  nor  wool.  This  same  gentleman  is  Bur- 
bank enough  to  have  crossed  alpacas  with  wild 
vicugnas  in  order  to  get  a finer  wool.  He  has 
two  hundred  such  hybrids,  allows  them  to  breed 
only  among  themselves,  and  promptly  removes 
from  the  herd  every  coarse-wooled  lamb. 

The  slopes  above  Lake  Titicaca  up  to  fourteen 
thousand  feet  grow  barley,  potatoes,  and  quinua, 
which  looks  like  a glorified  breakfast  food.  In 
the  markets  the  staple  is  chuno,  or  potato  desic- 


82 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


cated  into  something  about  as  light  and  toothsome 
as  cork.  The  potatoes  are  frozen,  trampled  after 
they  have  thawed,  in  order  to  press  out  the  juice, 
then  dried  in  the  sun.  Repeated  several  times, 
this  yields  the  black  chuno.  The  “white”  chuno 
comes  from  potatoes  that  have  lain  for  weeks  in 
water  under  straw.  Nobody  could  tell  me  whether 
or  not  potatoes  thus  treated  retain  their  power 
to  cure  scurvy.  If  so,  we  may  yet  see  chuno  in 
the  kit  of  travelers,  prospectors,  and  soldiers  all 
over  the  world,  and  this  food,  known  only  to  the 
highlanders,  may  become  an  important  article  of 
commerce. 

No  wonder  these  plateau-dwellers  worship  the 
sun.  The  waters  of  Titicaca  have  a temperature 
of  from  40°  to  60°  Fahr.,  and  the  denizens  of  the 
numerous  islands  in  the  lake  never  learn  to  swim, 
although  they  navigate  the  lake  in  balsas  made 
of  bundles  of  light  reeds.  In  summer  a lowering 
sky  shrouds  the  mountains.  In  winter  the  great 
glaciers  of  Sorata  glisten  in  the  sunshine,  but  the 
water  is  gray,  and  the  sky  has  the  pale,  unsmil- 
ing blue  that  suggests  the  chill  of  steel. 

Certain  parts  of  the  Bolivian  plain  beyond 
Lake  Titicaca  are  dotted  for  miles  with  piles  of 
stones  picked  out  of  the  soil  by  the  cultivator  in 
order  to  make  the  ground  fit  to  till.  The  scene 
is  like  a vast  meadow  filled  with  haycocks.  A 
single  sweep  of  the  eye  takes  in  perhaps  ten  thou- 
sand of  these  monuments  of  toil.  In  some  places 
the  area  covered  by  the  stone-heaps  equals  the 
soil  between.  Much  of  the  land  thus  laboriously 


THE  NATIVE  RACES  83 

won  is  so  poor  that  it  must  be  allowed  to  lie  fallow 
the  greater  part  of  the  time. 

Li.  PAZ 

Certain  cities  seem  as  if  posed  in  a tableau. 
Naples  is  as  theatrical  as  an  opera-dancer,  Hong- 
Kong  is  as  stagy  as  a geisha-girl,  La  Paz  is  as 
sensational  as  a bull-fighter.  For  leagues  you 
have  been  gliding  across  a table-land  toward  the 
huge  mass  of  Illimani,  which  resembles  a crouch- 
ing dromedary — a white  dromedary,  for  the 
mantle  of  snow  is  of  such  depth  that  scarcely  any- 
where do  the  black  bones  of  the  mountain  peer 
through  the  shining  cover.  Without  warning  you 
come  suddenly  to  the  edge  of  the  plain,  and,  be- 
hold, a third  of  a mile  below  you,  a city  of  sixty 
thousand  people,  the  red  of  its  tiled  roofs  girt 
with  the  intense  green  of  the  market  gardens. 
It  lies  in  a basin  from  which  a valley  twists  down 
toward  the  lowlands  of  eastern  Bolivia,  and  the 
bare  mountains  on  the  other  side  of  the  basin 
recall,  in  the  richness  of  their  mineral  hues,  the 
canon  of  the  Yellowstone. 

La  Paz  is  the  loftiest  capital  in  the  world, 
higher  even  than  Lhasa,  in  Tibet.  For  a city  with 
a large  Indian  population  it  is  very  clean.  It  is 
gay  with  natty  cavalry  officers  caracoling  on  met- 
tlesome Chilean  horses  and  regimental  bands  play- 
ing on  the  Prado.  Fine  mansions  line  the  Prado, 
and  the  aristocracy  dash  about  in  smart  turnouts. 
I saw  one  team  worth  four  thousand  dollars, 
which  had  taken  first  prize  at  the  Santiago  horse- 


84 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


show.  The  upper-crust  pride  themselves  on  be- 
ing a lap  ahead  of  Lima  and  Santiago  in  dressing 
comme  il  faut.  They  leave  a standing  order  with 
their  Paris  dressmaker  or  New  York  tailor  to  send 
on  at  once  any  new  style  that  comes  out.  Thus 
they  contrive  to  keep  within  a month  of  Fifth 
Avenue  and  the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  There  is  a great 
display  of  jewelry,  and  the  American  minister 
told  me  how  at  a banquet  he  sat  opposite  a lady 
wearing  precious  stones  to  the  value  of  $150,000. 

But  the  ultra-Parisian  styles  on  the  Prado  seem 
simple  and  natural  beside  the  costume  of  the 
chola.  The  lower  part  of  her  body  is  ballooned 
out  with  a great  number  of  short  skirts.  On  her 
feet  are  high  boots  with  exaggerated  French  heels. 
A fringed  silk  shawl,  draped  from  her  shoulders, 
obliterates  her  waist-line.  Her  ears  carry  large 
pendants,  while  her  head  is  surmounted  by  a high, 
bell-crowned,  narrow-brimmed,  enameled  straw 
hat.  One  must  ransack  a century  of  fashion- 
plates  to  find  anything  so  grotesque. 

Not  in  northern  Africa,  nor  in  China  does  one 
meet  with  such  love  of  intense  color  as  in  La  Paz. 
Startling  indeed  are  the  naive  color  combinations 
— a salmon  shawl  over  a deep-green  skirt,  pink 
over  ultramarine,  cream  over  lavender,  orange 
over  magenta.  Nor  are  the  men  far  behind.  The 
cholo  in  a white  collar  will  drape  himself  in  a 
poncho  of  solid  saffron,  pink,  cerise,  or  vermilion. 

The  Aymaras  are  a stronger  and  ruder  race 
than  the  mild-tempered  Kechuas.  In  the  course 
of  generations  this  breed  has  become  fully  adapted 


Cholas  of  La  Paz  in  gala  attire  Indian  mother  with  child,  La  Paz 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


87 


to  the  cold  and  the  thin  air  of  this  Ameri- 
can Tibet.  They  look  with  contempt  on  the  soft 
inhabitants  of  the  warm  valleys  and  make  mock 
of  their  sufferings  in  crossing  the  bleak  Andean 
steppes.  Tending  alpacas  and  llamas,  they  grow 
up  rugged  amid  bitter  winds  and  lashing  hail  and, 
if  they  complain,  it  is  never  of  the  climate,  but 
only  of  a grasping  master,  a squeezing  cura,  or 
a tax-gatherer  without  bowels. 

THE  UNPATRIOTIC  AYMARA 

They  make  far  better  soldiers  than  the  recruits 
from  the  warm  valleys,  but  never  do  they  join  the 
colors  of  their  free  will.  Of  the  Republic  of 
Bolivia  the  Aymara  has  no  notion  whatever. 
Province  and  canton  are  to  him  but  names.  When 
only  two  or  three  out  of  a hundred  can  read,  how 
are  they  to  arrive  at  a mental  picture  of  “my 
country”?  Nevertheless,  political  factions  con- 
trive to  draw  the  Indians  into  their  quarrels,  and 
the  participation  of  these  peasants,  without  the 
faintest  notion  of  the  issues  involved  but  men 
enough  to  fight  till  they  drop,  is  one  reason  why 
civil  wars  in  Bolivia  have  been  so  stubborn  and 
bloody. 

In  these  altitudes  land  is  the  very  breath  of  life, 
and  quarrels  over  land  often  give  birth  to  sangui- 
nary feuds.  The  stronger  peasant  removes  the 
landmarks  and  nibbles  away  his  weaker  neigh- 
bor’s field.  If  the  robbed  has  friends,  the  land- 
grabbing provokes  bloody  strife,  involving  per- 
haps the  whole  district,  and  resulting  in  the  an- 


88 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


nihilation  of  one  of  the  parties,  for  the  Indian 
is  pitiless  with  his  beaten  enemies. 

For  all  his  ferocity,  the  Aymara  lives  in  a 
strange  sympathy  with  his  live  stock.  He  warms 
the  new-born  lamb  with  his  own  body,  and  will 
go  to  any  trouble  for  a sick  animal.  The  death 
of  a ewe  plunges  him  into  grief,  and  he  will  weep 
more  over  the  loss  of  an  ox  than  over  the  loss  of 
a son.  The  sick  man  will  rather  die  of  weakness 
than  let  a fowl  be  killed  to  make  him  broth. 
“Where  I live,”  observes  a missionary,  “the 
Indians  are  so  fond  of  their  sheep  that  they  will 
not  bring  them  to  market.  So  the  corregidor  of 
San  Pedro  sends  out  his  men  and  commandeers 
the  needed  sheep,  paying  the  owner  fifteen  or 
twenty  cents  a head.  With  the  latter  price  the 
Indian  is  perfectly  satisfied,  although  he  would 
have  refused  a dollar  for  the  same  sheep  if  you 
had  tried  to  buy  it.  Yet  this  Indian  will  sell  his 
child  of  five  to  a townsman  in  need  of  a servant ! ’ ’ 

Although  nominally  Christian,  the  Indian  is  an 
idolater  at  heart  and  will  worship  rough  effigies 
of  clay  or  any  arresting  natural  object.  In  time 
of  drought  he  worships  lakes,  rivers,  and  springs. 
If  frost  threatens,  he  adores  the  stars,  lights  bon- 
fires on  the  hill,  or  buys  masses.  In  trouble  he 
consults  sorcerers,  practises  witchcraft,  or  peers 
into  the  future  by  opening  animals  and  inspect- 
ing their  entrails.  His  deity  is  St.  Iago  (St. 
James),  as  the  church  portrays  him,  on  horse- 
back, putting  the  heathen  to  flight.  The  Aymaras 
have  never  forgotten  that  St.  James  was  the  pa- 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


89 


tron  of  the  conquistadores,  that  ‘ 1 Santiago ! ’ ’ was 
the  battle-cry  of  these  irresistible  Spaniards,  and 
in  their  hearts  they  suspect  that  this  saint  is  more 
powerful  than  God. 

Every  pueblo  has  its  chapel,  the  abode  of  an 
overdressed  effigy  of  the  patron  saint.  Every 
year  the  saint  is  commemorated  with  a great  eight- 
day  feast,  which  is  an  occasion  for  wild  danc- 
ing, carousal,  and  beastly  drunkenness.  Alcohol 
loosens  the  Indian’s  tongue,  and  on  such  occasions, 
with  tears  running  down  his  cheeks,  this  taciturn 
and  unsocial  being  chants  the  story  of  his  suffer- 
ings and  his  wrongs. 

Lately  there  has  been  a general  movement  of 
the  Bolivian  Indians  for  the  recovery  of  the  lands 
of  which  they  have  been  robbed  piecemeal.  Con- 
flicts have  broken  out  and,  although  the  Govern- 
ment has  punished  the  ringleaders,  there  is  a feel- 
ing that,  so  long  as  the  exploiting  of  the  Indian 
goes  on,  Bolivians  are  living  “in  the  crater  of  a 
slumbering  volcano.”  Last  spring  “El  Tiempo” 
of  La  Paz,  in  an  editorial  under  the  heading, 
“How  they  rob  them!  How  they  kill  them!” 
said : 

The  condition  of  the  Indians  has  changed  all  too  little 
since  the  times  of  the  Spanish  domination.  They  con- 
tinue to  be  pariahs,  exploited  by  provincial  authorities 
and  brutalized  by  alcohol.  The  state  has  entered  into 
a kind  of  partnership  with  the  church;  the  former  to 
sell  alcohol  to  the  Indians  (having  a monopoly  of  its 
sale),  and  the  latter  to  provide  in  her  festivals  the  oc- 
casion for  its  consumption. 


90 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


The  moral,  intellectual,  and  material  condition  of  the 
Indians  is  the  worst  possible,  and  hinders  thq  progress 
of  the  nation,  at  the  same  time  bringing  us  face  to  face 
with  very  many  and  very  grave  problems  which  must  be 
solved,  the  tranquillity  of  outlying  districts  being  mean- 
time in  constant  danger. 

Any  one  analyzing  the  stagnant  and  miserable  life 
which  the  Indian  leads,  cannot  but  wonder  at  the  strength 
of  that  race,  which,  badly  fed,  ignorant  of  hygiene,  deci- 
mated by  diseases,  exploited  by  everybody,  and  poisoned 
by  alcohol,  does  not  disappear  or  at  least  lose  its  vigor. 

When,  his  cup  filled  to  overflowing  by  that  condition 
of  semi-slavery  in  which  he  lives  in  a country  at  once 
free  and  liberal,  the  Indian  protests,  then,  as  the  only 
remedy,  as  a supreme  argument,  we  apply  fierce  whip- 
pings to  his  back. 

THE  FUTURE  OF  THE  NATIVE  RACES 

“When  you  have  filled  up  Korea  and  Man- 
churia,” I said  to  Count  Okuma  in  Tokio  the  day 
after  the  annexation  of  Korea,  “whither  will  the 
increase  of  your  people  go?  Your  population 
tends  to  double  every  thirty  or  forty  years,  and 
Japan  is  crowded.  Will  you  not  be  obliged  to 
quarrel  with  France  for  Indo-China,  with  England 
for  Australia,  or  with  the  United  States  for  the 
Philippines  ? ’ ’ 

“No,”  replied  the  veteran  statesman  and  sage; 
“South  America,  especially  the  northern  part,  will 
furnish  ample  room  for  our  surplus.” 

I recalled  his  prophecy  when  I noted  how  the 
Japanese  are  sifting  into  Peru.  The  statesmen 
of  the  West  Coast  lie  awake  nights  dreading  lest 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


91 


the  Orient  should  overflow  in  their  direction. 
They  may  exclude  the  Chinese  for  the  present ; but 
every  one  foresees  that  new  China  will  in  time 
launch  a navy,  and  will  then  be  able  to  exact  for 
Chinese  the  same  treatment  that  other  immi- 
grants receive.  As  for  the  Japanese,  no  South 
American  government  or  possible  combination  of 
governments  dares  discriminate  against  them. 
Japan’s  navy  is  too  strong  for  the  South  Ameri- 
can navies. 

This  Asiatic  anxiety  is  not  confined  to  the 
countries  fronting  on  the  Pacific.  The  nations  of 
the  East  Coast,  from  Venezuela  to  Argentina,  re- 
alize that  it  will  not  be  long  after  the  opening  of 
the  Panama  Canal  before  Oriental  immigration 
becomes  a problem  for  them,  as  it  already  is  for 
the  West  Coast.  Not  long  ago  the  immigration 
authorities  at  Buenos  Aires,  confronted  unex- 
pectedly with  a shipload  of  Hindus,  promptly 
turned  them  back  as  “undesirable.”  Their  ac- 
tion was  high-handed,  for  there  is  nothing  in  the 
immigration  laws  of  Argentina  to  warrant  dis- 
crimination against  Asiatics,  but  it  met  with  gen- 
eral approval. 

Provided  that  no  barrier  be  interposed  to  the 
inflow  from  “man-stifled”  Asia,  it  is  well  within 
the  bounds  of  probability  that  by  the  close  of  this 
century  South  America  will  be  the  home  of  twenty 
or  thirty  millions  of  Orientals  and  descendants  of 
Orientals.  To  predict  this  in  1915  is  certainly 
less  rash  than  it  would  have  been  to  predict  in 
1815  that  before  the  close  of  the  nineteenth 


92 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


century  a single  country  in  North  America  would 
receive  nearly  twenty  millions  of  Europeans  and 
that  in  1900  the  surviving  immigrants,  with  their 
descendants,  would  number  more  than  thirty-one 
millions!  This,  however,  is  precisely  what  has 
occurred. 

But  Asiatic  immigration  of  such  volume  would 
change  profoundly  the  destiny  of  South  America. 
For  one  thing,  it  would  forestall  and  frustrate 
that  gTeat  immigration  of  Europeans  which 
South  American  statesmen  are  counting  on  to  re- 
lieve their  countries  from  mestizo  unprogressive- 
ness  and  misgovernment.  The  white  race  would 
withhold  its  increase  or  look  elsewhere  for  out- 
lets; for  those  with  the  higher  standard  of  com- 
fort always  shun  competition  with  those  of  a 
lower  standard.  Again,  large  areas  of  South 
America  might  cease  to  be  parts  of  Christendom. 
Some  of  the  republics  there  might  come  to  he  as 
dependent  upon  Asiatic  powers  as  the  Cuban  re- 
public is  dependent  upon  the  United  States. 

In  any  case,  an  Asiatic  influx  would  seal  the 
doom  of  the  Indian  element  in  these  countries. 
The  Indians  have  excellent  possibilities,  but  it  will 
take  at  least  three  generations  of  popular  educa- 
tion and  equal  opportunity  to  enable  them  to  re- 
alize these  possibilities.  At  present  they  are  de- 
pressed, ignorant,  and  unprogressive.  Outside 
the  larger  towns,  virtually  nothing  is  being  done 
for  their  children,  who  will  grow  into  men  and 
women  just  as  benighted  and  hopeless  as  their 
parents.  As  they  now  are,  the  Indians  could 


THE  NATIVE  RACES 


93 


make  no  effective  economic  stand  against  the 
wide-awake,  resourceful,  and  aggressive  Japanese 
or  Chinese.  The  Oriental  immigrants  could  beat 
the  Indians  at  every  point,  block  every  path  up- 
ward, and  even  turn  them  out  of  most  of  their 
present  employments.  In  great  part  the  Indians 
would  become  a cringing  sudra  caste,  tilling  the 
poorer  lands  and  confined  to  the  menial  or  re- 
pulsive occupations.  Filled  with  despair,  and 
abandoning  themselves  even  more  than  they  now 
do  to  pisco  and  coca,  they  would  shrivel  into  a 
numerically  negligible  element  in  the  population. 

Strange  to  say,  whether  such  is  to  be  their  fate 
depends  upon  the  policy  of  the  United  States ; for 
this  is  the  only  power  in  the  Western  Hemisphere 
strong  enough  to  “speak  in  the  gate”  with  the 
armed  Japan  of  to-day  or  the  armed  China  of 
to-morrow.  When  the  South  American  countries, 
especially  those  of  the  West  Coast,  beseech  the 
United  States  to  back  them  up  in  discriminating 
against  Asiatic  immigrants,  we  shall  face  a de- 
cision of  tremendous  import  to  mankind ; namely, 
whether  or  not  the  Monroe  Doctrine  shall  not 
only  protect  the  South  American  republics  against 
the  Old  World  powers,  but  shall  also  be  held  as  a 
buckler  between  the  South  American  peoples  and 
the  teeming  Orient.  Then  we  shall  be  obliged  to 
consider,  for  one  thing,  whether  the  race  pos- 
sibilities of  the  millions  of  upland  Indians  are 
such  as  to  warrant  our  shielding  them  for  a time 
from  the  annihilating  competition  of  the  capable 
Orientals. 


CHAPTER  IV 


CHILE 

IF  Italy  is  a boot  and  France  a teapot,  surely 
Chile,  twenty  times  as  long  as  it  is  broad,  is 
an  eel.  Twenty-six  hundred  miles  long,  it  re- 
sembles our  North  Pacific  Coast,  small  and  up- 
side down.  Its  rainless  North  is  the  counterpart 
of  Lower  California.  Central  Chile,  with  its 
plain  running  between  the  lofty  Andean  axis  and 
the  low  Coast  Range,  is  a vest-pocket  edition  of 
the  valley  of  the  Sacramento  or  the  San  Joaquin. 
Valparaiso,  for  all  its  insecure  harbor,  is  San 
Francisco  to  the  South  Pacific,  while  Santiago 
has  the  site  of  Sacramento  in  a climate  like  that 
of  Los  Angeles.  Southern  Chile  like  Oregon  is 
so  wet  that  its  inhabitants  are  playfully  said  to 
have  web  feet.  The  island  of  Chiloe,  its  dripping 
trees  bearded  with  moss,  answers  to  Vancouver 
Island,  Smyth  Channel  to  the  inside  channel  up 
to  Juneau,  while  Tierra  del  Fuego  matches  in  a 
way  with  Alaska. 

In  Chile,  as  in  Australia,  the  seasons  are  the 
reverse  of  ours,  and  one  is  startled  to  realize  that 
all  our  poetic  allusions  to  the  months  need  to  be 
revamped.  They  speak  of  “March  vintage,” 
“brown  April  ale,”  “sultry  January,”  “bleak 
July,”  “February  dog-days,”  “dreary  May,” 

94 


The  California  look  of  a Chilian  landscape 


CHILE 


97 


and  ‘‘gentle  Boreas.’ ’ They  make  Keats  sing  of 
a “ drear-nigh  ted  June”;  Coleridge  of  “the  leafy 
month  of  December”;  Burns  of  “chill  May’s 
surly  blast”;  while  a famous  song  must  run: 

“Oh  that  we  two  were  Novembering.” 

In  Chile,  Milton  would  exclaim : 

“Hail,  bounteous  November,  that  dost  inspire 
Mirth  and  youth  and  warm  desire.” 

Bryant  would  celebrate 

“ . . . flowery  December 

When  brooks  send  up  a cheerful  tune.” 

Lowell  would  ask, 

“What  is  so  rare  as  a day  in  December f” 

We  should  hear  Shakespeare  rhapsodizing, 

“The  October’s  in  her  eyes;  it  is  Love’s  spring.” 

We  should  learn  that 

“Sweet  October  showers  do  bring  November  flowers,” 

While  the  Tennysonian  refrain  would  be  meta- 
morphosed into, 

“For  I am  to  be  Queen  of  the  November,  Mother, 
I’m  to  be  Queen  of  the  November.” 

In  Valparaiso  one  is  struck  by  signs  of  Eng- 
lish influence.  On  the  commercial  streets  every 
third  man  suggests  the  Briton,  while  a large  pro- 


98 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


portion  of  the  business  people  look  as  if  they  have 
their  daily  tub.  The  cleanliness  of  the  streets, 
the  freshness  of  the  parks  and  squares,  the  dress- 
ing of  the  shop-windows,  and  the  style  of  the 
mounted  police  remind  one  of  England.  The 
climate  is  invigorating,  and  one  notices  a ‘ ‘ snap  ’ ’ 
that  is  alien  to  Guayaquil  and  Lima.  Nature 
provided  little  space  for  the  city.  Much  of  the 
business  section  is  filled-in  bay,  while  the  resi- 
dences climb  the  ravines  and  crown  the  bluffs. 
Not  even  trolley  cars  can  breast  the  grades,  so 
a dozen  ascensors  may  be  seen  climbing  tire 
heights  like  beetles  on  a wall,  lifting  people  thirty 
to  fifty  yards  for  a penny.  When,  as  in  1906,  the 
earth  quakes  under  the  houses  on  such  perilous 
sites,  the  ruin  is  appalling.  The  official  avowal 
of  the  loss  of  life  then  was  over  three  thousand, 
but  private  opinion  more  than  doubles  the  figures. 

The  night  view  of  Valparaiso  from  the  balco- 
nies of  the  cliff  dwellers  is  one  of  the  great  sights 
of  the  world.  The  vast  sickle  of  the  shore  lit  for 
nearly  two  hundred  thousand  people,  the  scores 
of  ocean  vessels  lying  at  anchor,  the  harbor 
lights,  the  glowing  avenues  below  from  which 
rises  mellowed  the  roar  of  nocturnal  traffic,  the 
rippling  water  under  the  moonlight  and  the  far 
horizon  of  the  illimitable  Pacific  produce  an  effect 
of  enchantment. 

Santiago  the  capital,  with  half  a million  in- 
habitants, lies  thirty  leagues  inland  on  the  valley 
floor  about  ten  miles  from  the  foot  hills  and  in 
midsummer  one  may  cool  himself  in  imagination 


CHILE 


99 


by  contemplating,  at  a distance  of  fifteen  or 
twenty  miles,  the  eternal  snows  of  the  Andes. 
To  see  them  in  the  crimsoning  light  of  sunset, 
from  the  terraces  of  Santa  Lucia,  a rocky  wooded 
hill  rising  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  the  city,  is 
one  of  the  golden  experiences  of  South  America. 
Through  the  streets  races  the  brown  water  from 
the  mountains,  so  laden  that  in  a glass  of  it  there 
will  be  an  inch  of  sediment.  On  the  fields  such 
water  leaves  annually  a fertilizing  quarter  of  an 
inch,  so  that  here,  as  in  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  the 
land  never  wears  out.  When  tillage  began  here, 
nearly  four  centuries  ago,  the  plain  was  gravelly 
and  the  thickness — two  to  fifteen  feet — of  the  soil 
that  now  overlies  the  gravel  measures  the  spoil 
from  the  irrigating  waters. 

The  Central  Valley,  running  south  for  two 
hundred  miles,  crossed  by  a dozen  rivers  from 
the  Sierra,  now  twenty  miles  wide,  now  nearly 
pinched  out  by  the  advance  vedettes  of  the  ranges, 
is  the  heart  of  Chile.  In  summer  it  unreels  a 
film  of  ripening  wheat,  luxuriant  emerald  alfalfa, 
well-kept  vineyards  and  dusty  highways  where 
oxen  draw  clumsy  carts  on  enormous  wheels, 
vehicles  so  old-fashioned  that  you  instantly  think 
of  them  as  “wains.”  From  such  highways  there 
lead  to  the  estates  the  lofty  green  tunnels  of 
alamedas,  shut  between  rows  of  poplars  and 
cooled  by  the  flashing  waters  of  the  acequias. 

From  the  valley  no  vast  tangle  of  foot  hills 
hides  the  Alpine  world  as  the  high  Sierra  is 
screened  from  the  dwellers  in  the  great  valleys 


100 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


of  California.  Above  the  ruminating  kine  in  the 
lush  pastures  the  snow  fields  lift  into  the  still  air 
so  near  and  so  clear  that  you  can  see  the  breaks 
in  their  surface.  Here  as  in  California  with  the 
advance  of  the  dry  season  the  dust  haze  thickens 
till  the  mountains  are  blotted  out.  Then  the 
first  autumn  rain  washes  the  laden  atmosphere 
as  a shower  washes  a dirty  window  pane  and,  lo, 
your  dear  friends  are  there  again  so  close  that 
you  can  see  the  eagle  hovering  above  the  abyss. 

The  luxuriant  blackberry  hedges,  the  double 
rows  of  slim  poplars,  and  the  mud  walls  coped 
with  tiles  to  prevent  the  rain  wearing  them  down, 
divide  the  valley  into  pastures  that  would  surely 
be  counted  Elysian  Fields  if  cattle  had  ever 
dreamt  themselves  a heaven.  When  one  is  not 
in  the  midst  of  vineyards  or  wheat,  the  land  is  a 
succession  of  parks  grazed  over  by  a fat  happy 
kine  and  sleek  prankish  horses  shut  in  by  green 
walls  sixty  feet  high  and  six  feet  thick.  Yet,  from 
end  to  end  of  this  agricultural  paradise  one  never 
sees  what  we  would  call  “a  good  farm  residence.” 
Save  for  a rare  hacienda  home  no  dwellings  ap- 
pear but  the  miserable  reed  or  mud  huts  of  the 
inquilinos  or  agricultural  laborers,  the  descend- 
ants of  the  old-time  slaves.  This  is  a land  of 
great  estates  held  chiefly  by  absentees  and  the 
produce  of  the  fields  goes  not  to  sustain  a flourish- 
ing rural  life  but  to  keep  up  an  ambitious  house 
in  a provincial  capital  or  a mud-and-marble  man- 
sion in  Santiago. 

Roads  and  draft  animals  are  like  the  ends  of 


CHILE 


101 


a teeter-board;  when  one  is  up  the  other  is  down. 
The  finest  mules  and  the  worst  roads  in  the  world 
coexist  in  Shansi  in  North  China.  The  second 
best  mules  and  the  second  worst  roads  were  to  be 
found  a generation  ago  in  Missouri.  When,  as  in 
southern  Europe,  the  roads  have  the  Roman  per- 
fection, the  draft  animals  are  the  donkeys,  dogs 
and  old  women.  Now,  the  best  thing  in  Chile  is 
the  horse.  He  is  of  Arab  strain,  short-bodied, 
but  with  powerful  legs  that  can  bear  a rider  all 
day  long  at  a gallop.  Not  only  is  he  docile  and 
intelligent,  but  nothing  can  break  his  spirit.  I 
have  yet  to  see  a Chilean  horse  so  old  or  spent 
that  his  ears  are  not  pricked  forward  with  an  air 
of  interest  and  hope.  How  natural,  then,  that 
the  worst  thing  in  Chile  is  the  roads.  Never  are 
they  rounded  or  provided  with  side  ditches.  The 
solid-wheel  ox-carts  grind  them  down  till  they  are 
lower  than  the  fields,  rutty  and  hummocky;  in 
summer  ankle-deep  in  dust;  in  winter  knee-deep 
in  mud.  Thoughtful  men  realize  they  are  a heavy 
clog  on  the  advancement  of  the  country,  but  the 
Government  pleads  lack  of  funds  and  there  is  no 
system  of  compulsory  road  work,  such  as  we  have. 

Going  south  we  notice  the  streams  are  becom- 
ing broader  and  upon  crossing  the  beautiful  Bio 
Bio  River,  which  was  for  nearly  three  centuries 
the  boundary  between  Spanish  Chile  and  uncon- 
querable Araucania,  we  enter  the  “dark  and 
bloody  ground”  of  the  Continent.  This  is  a new 
country,  for  it  was  only  in  1883  that  a column  of 
soldiers  brought  under  the  once  redoubtable 


102 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Mapuches,  weakened  then  by  alcohol  and  disease 
to  a mere  shadow  of  their  old  selves.  The  result 
was  a development  like  that  which  in  Wyoming 
and  Montana  followed  the  suppression  of  the 
Sioux.  European  immigrants  poured  in  and 
caste  never  struck  root.  Here,  one  finds  some- 
thing of  the  rough  frontier  democracy  of  Idaho 
or  Alberta.  The  common  people  hold  themselves 
as  good  as  anybody  and  dress  up  to  their  means. 
The  young  women  are  garbed  like  daughters  of 
American  farmers,  while  the  maids  at  the  rail- 
road eating  house  show  the  emphatic  stylishness 
of  our  waitresses. 

Below  Temuco  in  the  very  heart  of  old  Arau- 
cania  I visited  a mission  maintained  by  the 
Church  of  England  for  the  Mapuches.  The  trail 
led  through  a beautiful  high-lying  country  with 
forest  trees  still  standing  on  the  unfinished  clear- 
ings and  wheat  springing  amid  the  stumps  and 
charred  logs.  A blue  trout-infested  river  brawled 
down  under  high  banks.  The  effect  of  the  translu- 
cent stream,  the  grassy  glades,  the  wooded  hills, 
and  the  clumps  of  lofty  trees  was  that  of  an 
abandoned  royal  park.  Thatched  Mapuche 
rucas,  the  dark  interior  soot-festooned  from  the 
open  fire  in  the  middle  of  the  dirt  floor,  alternated 
with  the  rough  board  cabins  of  the  Chilean  set- 
tlers. Highroad  there  was  none  and  our  way 
led  through  many  gates  and  bars.  The  mission 
consists  of  a church,  a boys’  school,  a girls’ 
school,  a sawmill,  shops,  barns,  orchards,  and 
eight  hundred  acres  of  land.  Apple  and  cherry 


CHILE 


103 


were  in  blossom,  dandelions  starred  the  blue 
grass,  the  currants  were  in  bloom,  and  the  mis- 
sion bees  went  zooning  amid  the  white  clover. 
You  could  fancy  yourself  in  the  south  of  Eng- 
land. Copper-colored  lads,  broad  of  face  and 
heavy  of  feature,  were  snaking  logs  for  the  saw- 
mill, making  benches,  building  a porch,  and  water- 
ing the  garden.  It  was  a delightful  scene  of 
peace,  work,  and  aspiration  where  once  had 
reigned  sloth,  drunkenness,  injustice,  and  hatred. 
No  doubt  the  monasteries  in  the  Dark  Ages  stood 
for  about  the  same  things  as  this  mission. 

When  Araucania  was  opened  to  settlement,  the 
natives  were  allowed  to  keep  the  lands  they  were 
actually  using,  so  that  about  half  the  soil  here 
belongs  to  them.  The  Government  aims  to  fur- 
nish from  seven  to  twelve  acres  to  each  male 
and,  as  population  grows,  to  provide  the  surplus 
with  plots  in  other  provinces  where  there  is  still 
public  land.  Up  to  ten  years  ago  the  Mapuches 
were  diminishing  in  number,  but  now,  thanks  to 
the  teaching  of  temperance  and  right-living  by 
the  missionaries,  they  are  holding  their  own. 
Crossing  goes  on  at  a great  rate  and  some  think 
that  before  long  the  pure  stock  will  be  gone.  Bit 
by  bit  the  Chileans  are  filching  the  acres  from  the 
Mapuches  and  the  official  “Protector  of  the  Na- 
tives” is  of  little  use  to  them.  At  the  time  of  my 
visit  a delegation  of  caciques  was  in  Santiago 
praying  for  protection.  The  mission  schools  have 
done  such  good  work  that  they  receive  govern- 
ment aid  and  their  aim  is  to  work  out  a type  of 


104 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


industrial  education  so  suitable  that  the  Govern- 
ment will  provide  it  for  all  native  children. 

The  mission  teachers  insist  that  the  Mapuche 
is  more  truthful  and  honorable  than  the  Chilean. 
His  sex  morality  is  higher  even  if  the  cacique 
does  keep  a wife  in  each  corner  of  his  ruca.  The 
Mapuches  never  molest  the  missionary  ladies  and 
here  as  elsewhere  the  lone  woman  dreads  the 
Chilean  more  than  the  Indian.  “They  are  big 
children,”  observed  a teacher.  “They  sulk  like 
children,  they  trust  like  children.”  One  of  the 
mission  headmen  insists  that  the  Indians  are  in 
every  way  equal  to  the  whites,  but  the  teachers 
agree  that  among  their  pupils  there  are  fewer 
with  mental  initiative  and  organizing  power  than 
there  would  be  among  an  equal  number  of  white 
children.  To  my  eye  a group  of  Mapuche  chil- 
dren promises  nothing  fine,  although  the  faces  are 
by  no  means  dull. 

On  down  toward  Osorno  the  heavier  woods  and 
ranker  undergrowth  tell  of  increasing  rainfall. 
The  shaggy  hills  and  ridges  recall  Oregon  land- 
scapes. The  great  lumber  piles  at  every  station, 
the  mean,  unpainted  houses,  the  unkempt  towns, 
and  the  rough  garb  belong  to  man’s  first  grapple 
with  nature.  The  adobe  hut  is  gone  and  the  log 
fences,  frame  houses  and  long  piles  of  cordwood 
show  a most  lavish  use  of  forest  wealth.  Further 
south  cultivation  is  rare  and  the  country  is  nearly 
wilderness.  Clearing  is  going  on,  great  piles  of 
brush  are  burning,  while  greener  piles  are  dry- 
ing for  later  holocaust.  Forest  destruction  ap- 


El Tronador,  “The  Thunderer,"  Chile,  11,300  feet  high 


View  of  the  Central  Valley  of  Chile,  near  Santiago 


CHILE 


107 


pears  to  have  affected  the  climate,  for  an  extreme 
drought  prevails  and  hundreds  of  square  miles  are 
being  devastated  by  fire.  In  a single  afternoon 
from  the  train  I counted  thirty  fires.  The  outcry 
over  this  fearful  waste  of  natural  wealth  will 
probably  call  into  being  a forest  service  for  Chile. 

Presently  we  leave  Araucania  and  the  wilder- 
ness gives  way  to  farms.  About  sixty  years  ago 
a stream  of  German  immigration  laved  southern 
Chile,  so  there  are  now  in  these  parts  about  thirty 
thousand  of  German  blood,  two-thirds  of  them 
born  in  the  country.  La  Union,  Osorno  and  Val- 
divia are  centers  of  German  influence  and  betray 
Teutonic  characteristics,  although  the  Chilean  ele- 
ment preponderates  in  numbers.  The  country 
abounds  in  fine  farmhouses  and  big  bams  like 
those  of  the  Germans  in  Wisconsin,  while  the 
towns  show  a dignity  and  solidity  I have  not  seen 
since  leaving  Santiago. 

This  is  a moist  climate — ten  feet  of  rain  fell  in 
a recent  five  months — so  that  the  flanks  of  the 
Andes  are  full  of  lovely  lakes  like  those  of  the 
Bernese  Oberland  or  the  Sierra  Nevada.  Lake 
Llanquihue  is  about  the  size  of  Lake  Tahoe  in 
California  and  its  waters  are  nearly  as  blue.  The 
mountains  and  smoking  volcanoes  wear  a thick 
cap  of  snow  and  the  country  is  full  of  singing 
brooks  and  green  rushing  little  rivers.  In  the 
right  season  this  is  for  the  lover  of  the  temperate 
zone  the  sweetest,  goodliest  spot  in  all  South 
America.  It  is  a land  where  it  neither  freezes 
or  burns,  fresh  in  summer  and  mild  in  winter,  a 


108 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


land  of  tender  green  grass,  dandelions,  violets, 
wild  roses,  hawthorn  and  white  clover.  Three 
hundred  German  families  dwell  about  the  Lake 
and  they  have  converted  its  wooded  shores  into 
smiling  farms.  There  are  neat  frame  buildings, 
white  palings  and  post-and-rail  fences  enclosing 
stump-dotted  pastures  where  contented  cattle 
graze  and  look  off  into  the  virgin  woods  a mile  or 
two  away. 

Chile  is  a rich  field  for  the  student  of  races.  Its 
conquerors  were  not  altogether  of  the  same  type 
as  those  who  ravished  the  treasures  of  the  Incas. 
The  gold  washings  by  Indian  serfs  working  all 
day  in  icy  water  and  weeping  while  they  worked 
soon  came  to  an  end  and  thereafter  there  was  little 
to  attract  to  Chile  the  eager  gold-seeker.  The 
early  history  of  the  colony  is  drab  pastoralism  and 
agriculture  streaked  crimson  by  slave  uprisings 
and  Indian  fighting.  Chile  attracted  the  born 
fighters — men  content  to  face  a life  in  saddle  and 
camp  and  a death  under  a Mapuche  club.  A 
Chilean  scholar  has  published  a book  to  show  that 
they  were  the  descendants  of  the  Visigoths  of 
Euric  and  Pelayo,  who  found  in  Araucania  a 
chance  to  slake  their  racial  thirst  for  fighting. 
What  a romance  of  history  that  leads  the  Goths 
in  the  third  century  from  southern  Scandinavia 
to  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea,  in  the  fifth  cen- 
tury makes  them  masters  of  Italy,  and  in  the  next 
century  drives  them  to  Spain,  from  which  a thou- 
sand years  later  they  flock  to  Chile  to  mate  with 
native  women  and  become  ancestors  of  the  roto, 


CHILE 


109 


the  Chilean  peasant  of  to-day ! I have  met  Chile- 
ans whose  stature,  broad  shoulders,  big  faces, 
high  cheek-bones,  and  tawny  mustaches  pro- 
claimed them  as  genuine  Norsemen  as  the  Ice- 
landers in  our  Eed  River  Valley. 

In  the  upper  classes  of  Chile  there  is  much  Ger- 
manic blood.  One  sees  it  in  stature,  eye  color, 
and  ruddy  complexion.  A couple  of  centuries  ago 
when  the  Panama  route  was  blocked  by  the  Eng- 
lish buccaneers,  so  that  traffic  to  the  West  Coast 
sought  the  Straits  of  Magellan,  the  north  Euro- 
peans who  visited  the  Pacific  fell  under  the  spell 
of  a scenery  and  climate  so  like  home  and  settled 
in  Chile.  Such  names  as  O’Higgins,  Edwards, 
MacKenna,  Lispenperger  and  Blumenthal,  crop 
up  often  in  Chilean  history.  Among  the  pupils  of 
Santiago  College  there  are  as  many  blonds  as 
brunets,  while  not  over  a third  have  both  parents 
Chilean.  This  Germanic  element  has  given  Chile 
a very  different  slant  from  Peru.  Neither  lottery 
nor  bull-fight  has  ever  struck  root  in  Chile,  while 
its  political  life  has  been  marked  by  an  energy  and 
self-control  rare  in  South  America. 

The  Chilean  masses  are  descended  from  the 
crossing  of  Europeans  with  captive  native  women. 
Early  Chile  was  a man’s  colony,  and  white  women 
were  few.  The  Spanish  trooper  fared  south  to 
the  frontier  with  from  four  to  six  native  women 
to  attend  him.  Four  to  one  was  the  ratio  of  the 
sexes  in  the  frontier  garrisons  and  soon  there  was 
a swarm  of  half-breed  children.  In  a single  week 
in  1580  sixty  such  children  were  born  in  a post 


110 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


with  one  hundred  and  sixty  soldiers.  In  1550  the 
married  men  in  Valdivia  had  up  to  thirty  concu- 
bines apiece.  Aguirre,  one  of  the  conquistadores, 
left  at  his  death  fifty  legitimate  sons,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  daughters.  De  Escobar  left  eighty-seven 
living  descendants,  and  he  by  no  means  held  the 
record  for  his  time.  It  is  doubtful  if  the  exploits 
in  parentage  of  the  Chilean  pioneers  can  be 
matched  in  history.  The  men  of  two  of  the  most 
bellicose  breeds  the  world  has  ever  known  wore 
each  other  down  by  endless  warfare,  so  that  innu- 
merable native  women  became  the  booty  of  the  sur- 
viving white  men  and  bore  them  children.  As  late 
as  1776  in  Santiago  the  women  were  ten  times  as. 
numerous  as  the  men.  This  blending  of  strains 
occurred  so  long  ago  and  was  so  complete  that  the 
modem  Chileans  do  not  reveal  the  atavism  of 
mixed  breeds.  They  are  virtually  a new  race  with 
definite  transmissible  characteristics  and  betray, 
it  is  said,  no  tendency  to  revert  to  either  of  the 
ancestral  stocks. 

In  the  other  colonies  of  the  West  Coast  the 
Spaniards  subdued  docile  cultivators  who  went  on 
tilling  the  soil  without  needing  the  master’s  atten- 
tion. In  Chile  the  whites  met  a wild,  stiff-necked 
people,  unbroken  to  toil,  so  that  they  had  to  live 
out  on  their  estates  and  oversee  their  serfs.  This 
made  the  Chilean  fiefholders  more  active  and  prac- 
tical than  the  Peruvians  corrupted  by  town  idle- 
ness and  luxury.  In  rural  tastes  the  Chilean 
hacendados  resembled  the  Southern  planters,  al- 
though of  late  the  passion  for  town  life  is  grow- 


\ 


CHILE  111 

ing.  The  public  spirit  and  political  steadiness 
which  long  distinguished  Chile  from  other  South 
American  republics  reflected  country-gentleman 
character. 

The  rotos  are  dare-devil  fighters  and  spirited 
workers  under  proper  direction,  but  they  did  not 
impress  me  as  a high  type.  Beside  them  the 
Teutons  of  the  southern  provinces  stand  out  like  a 
natural  nobility.  Although  in  the  towns  the  Ger- 
man contingent  is  but  a small  minority,  it  takes 
the  lead  and  is  readily  conceded  the  upper  hand. 
In  every  case  the  mayor  is  a German  elected  by 
Chilean  votes,  for  the  Germans  enjoy  a great  rep- 
utation for  probity  in  public  office.  Once  the 
Chileans  owned  all  the  land  about  Lake  Llanqui- 
hue,  but  it  has  all  come  to  the  Germans  owing  to 
their  hard  work,  thrift,  and  close  attention  to  the 
details  of  farming.  An  old  Chilean  put  his  finger 
on  the  weaknesses  of  his  people  when  he  said: 
“We  have  the  pride  of  the  Spaniard  and  the  lazi- 
ness of  the  Araucanian.  ’ ’ The  first  generation  of 
Germans  came  poor,  and  even  worked  as  laborers 
for  the  Chileans.  They  prospered  so  fast  that 
sometimes  the  son  of  the  Chilean  landowner  be- 
came inquilino  for  the  son  of  the  very  German  who 
had  worked  for  his  father.  Now  in  the  third  gen- 
eration it  is  said  that  some  of  the  young  Chileans, 
having  learned  thrift  from  the  Germans,  are  be- 
coming landowners  again. 

The  prevailing  German  opinion  of  the  Chileans 
is  not  high.  “Good  raw  material;  we  need  them 
as  laborers,  but  of  course  we  don ’t  regard  them  as 


112 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


our  equals.  They  are  bright  enough,  but  don’t 
look  ahead.  Once  they  had  all  the  farms,  but  they 
sold  out  to  us — couldn’t  resist  the  temptation  of 
cash — and  now  they  are  our  inquilinos.”  For  a 
long  time  it  made  a great  scandal  for  a Teuton  to 
marry  a Chilean,  but  now  the  Teutons  are  broad- 
minded enough  to  admit  that  some  Chileans  are 
fine  people.  Educators  insist  that  the  crossing  of 
the  two  stocks  gives  no  good  result.  The  off- 
spring seem  to  inherit  the  bad  points  of  their 
parents  rather  than  the  good  points.  They  are 
said  to  be  bad  in  disposition,  lazier  than  either 
parent,  and  lacking  in  the  will-power  to  control 
their  appetites  and  passions. 

All  the  observers  agreed  that  the  rotos  are 
clever.  From  operating  machinery  to  playing 
music,  they  are  “quick  in  the  uptake,”  as  Mrs. 
Poyser  says.  But  the  quickness  is  offset  by  su- 
perficiality ; what  comes  easily  goes  easily.  Then, 
too,  they  seem  unable  to  advance  under  their  own 
steam.  “Unless  there  is  some  one  to  stir  him 
up,”  observed  a German  merchant,  “the  Chilean 
simply  doesn’t  think  at  all.  He  is  a creature  of 
habit  and  routine,  incapable  of  self-criticism. 
Without  a jolt  from  some  one  he  would  go  on  for 
centuries  planting  potatoes  with  a crooked  stick.  ’ ’ 
As  laborer  the  Chilean  has  good  points — physical 
endurance  and  energy ; but  he  must  have  direction 
for,  working  on  his  own  place  for  himself,  he 
is  fitful. 

Teachers  find  the  Chileans  quicker  of  percep- 
tion than  the  Germans,  but  think  that  no  amount 


CHILE 


113 


of  schooling  will  free  them  from  the  sway  of  shift- 
ing impulses.  The  German  has  aims  and  goes 
farther  because  he  moves  only  in  one  direction. 
The  day  after  election  Chileans  who  but  yesterday 
were  vilifying  each  other  will  bury  the  hatchet 
and  embrace.  The  Germans  despise  a quicksilver 
people  who  get  over  their  political  grudges  so 
easily.  Two  Chileans  will  come  to  blows,  make 
up,  embrace,  drink  together,  quarrel,  fight,  make 
up,  embrace,  drink  together,  and  so  da  capo.  The 
Chilean  readily  pours  out  a stream  of  foaming  elo- 
quence which  sounds  fine,  but  the  matter-of-fact 
German  blows  the  lather  off  and  asks  in  wonder, 
“What,  then,  did  the  man  really  say?”  “We 
say  in  ten  words,”  observed  a pastor,  “what  they 
need  a hundred  words  to  utter.” 


CHAPTER  V 


ARGENTINA 

ALONG  summer  day  suffices  the  Transandine 
Railway  to  transport  one  through  the 
gigantic  backbone  of  the  Continent  to  Mendoza, 
the  Argentine  gateway  of  the  Andes.  Sad  experi- 
ence with  earthquakes  has  left  Mendoza  a low- 
built,  very  extended  city.  Lying  under  the  lee  of 
the  mountains  it  enjoys  a hot-house  climate  and, 
like  Ispahan  and  other  oasis  cities  of  the  East,  it 
is  in  large  part  garden,  orchard,  and  vineyard. 
Through  the  doorways  in  the  high  walls  along  the 
suburban  streets  you  glimpse  long  arbors,  clumps 
of  maize,  patches  of  berries  or  melons,  and  trees 
laden  with  figs,  apricots,  and  peaches.  Down  both 
sides  of  the  street  gurgles  mountain  water  and  the 
runnels  are  lined  with  the  rootlets  of  drooping 
willows,  lofty  poplars,  leafy  cottonwoods,  spread- 
ing locusts,  and  tatterdemalion  eucalypti.  The 
water  recalls  the  tawny  fluid  that  fattens  the  fields 
about  Santiago,  for  the  wear  of  the  Andes  is  an 
inexhaustible  source  of  fertility  for  the  volcanic 
soil  that  bears  the  vineyards  of  Mendoza. 

After  a night’s  run  we  awake  to  find  ourselves 
flying  swiftly  across  a vast  productive  plain.  The 
pampa  is  amazingly  level — as  flat  as  the  flattest 
prairies  of  Illinois.  Channels,  erosions,  or  other 

114 


Mount  Osorno,  Chile 


ARGENTINA 


117 


signs  of  running  water  there  are  none.  In  on© 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  I noticed  not  one  bridge 
or  culvert  on  the  railway.  No  side  ditches  have 
been  provided  for  either  highway  or  railway.  We 
are  gliding  across  a boundless,  fertile  expanse, 
which  curves  like  the  surface  of  the  sea.  In  the 
foreground  graze  great  herds  of  blooded  cattle 
knee  deep  in  rank  prairie  grass  or  succulent 
lucerne.  In  the  middle  ground  appear  ranch 
buildings  surrounded  by  poplars,  orchards,  and 
grain  stacks  and  flanked  by  the  inevitable  wind- 
mill. Into  the  distance,  like  ships  “hull  down,” 
recede  poplars  and  windmills,  until  nothing  is  vis- 
ible but  the  tree-tops  and  the  vanes.  Above  the 
horizon  peer  long  yellow  stacks,  recalling  the  mat 
sails  of  Chinese  junks.  The  dark  bulks  that  heave 
above  the  cornfields  like  the  backs  of  bison  are  old 
hayricks,  eaten  small  about  the  base. 

It  is  no  doubt  the  most  metallic  of  new  coun- 
tries— metal  fences,  posts,  gates,  railway  ties, 
windmill  towers,  and  telephone  poles.  Even  the 
houses  are  of  adobe,  brick,  or  corrugated  iron. 
The  land  holdings  are  large  and  there  are  fenced 
fields  miles  square.  Dwellings  are  far  apart  and 
the  roads  are  merely  strips  of  unworked  pampa. 
They  are  wide,  twenty  to  thirty  yards  apparently ; 
a width  which  is  said  to  have  originated  with  the 
custom  of  driving  cattle  to  market.  The  road  had 
to  be  spacious  enough  for  them  to  graze  in  it  by 
day  and  camp  in  it  at  night. 

There  are  few  graded  highways  in  Argentina 
and  often  the  roads  have  been  worn  down  until, 


118 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


as  in  China,  they  are  lower  than  the  rest  of  the 
country — in  some  cases,  I was  informed,  as  much 
as  a yard  lower.  Much  of  the  pampa  has  been 
fenced  and  grazed,  but  never  yet  has  been  tom  by 
the  plow.  Whole  estates  held  for  a rise  in  value 
have  been  allowed  to  become  overgrown  with  a 
tall  thistle  that  will  hide  a man.  The  long  line  of 
fence  posts,  each  mantled  with  lodged  windle- 
straws,  looks  like  a procession  of  penitents. 
Myriads  of  pigeons,  ducks,  gulls,  wild  geese,  and 
barred  falcons  fly  about,  and  for  miles  at  a time 
there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  but  coarse,  tufted  wild 
grass. 

It  is  natural  that  the  American  visitor,  realiz- 
ing that  Buenos  Aires  is  the  chief  port  of  a vast 
food-producing  area  at  about  the  stage  of  develop- 
ment of  our  Northwest  forty  years  ago,  should 
look  for  a rough,  work-place  city  of  the  type  of 
Chicago  in  1875.  Imagine,  then,  his  surprise  to 
find  Buenos  Aires  a clean  and  handsome  city,  em- 
bellished with  a great  number  of  beautiful  parks 
and  plazas  and  furnished  with  buildings  in  the 
best  French  taste,  ornamented  with  innumerable 
domes,  turrets,  cupolas,  cornices,  balconies,  and 
loggias.  It  may  be  “a  plaster  imitation  of 
Paris,”  as  I have  heard  it  called,  but  it  is  certainly 
not  the  exponent  of  crude  commercial  utility. 
The  beauty  motive  is  nearly  everywhere  in  evi- 
dence, splendid  public  edifices  in  granite  or  marble 
are  rising,  while  the  numerous  blocked  streets  and 
the  air  filled  with  the  dust  of  demolition,  witness 
to  the  great  rate  at  which  the  city  is  being  recon- 


ARGENTINA 


119 


structed.  The  one  heavy  handicap  to  the  beautifi- 
cation of  Buenos  Aires  is  that  it  was  laid  out  with 
streets  only  ten  yards  wide,  admitting  of  side- 
walks only  four  and  one-half  feet  in  width.  The 
result  is  in  the  busy  parts  a congestion  of  traffic 
and  pedestrians,  which  a few  broad  avenues  and 
a subway  system  seem  entirely  inadequate  to  re- 
lieve. 

THE  PEOPLE 

The  Argentines  impress  one  as  a bigger  breed 
than  the  people  on  the  West  Coast.  When  at  the 
summit  of  the  Transandine  Railway  our  train 
passed  into  Argentine  hands,  the  greater  stature, 
the  massiveness  of  body,  and  the  bigness  of  face 
of  the  train  crew  was  at  once  noticeable.  The 
men  of  Buenos  Aires  looked  to  me  nearly  as  big 
as  New  Yorkers,  though  certainly  smaller  than 
the  men  of  Chicago.  Is  it  that  the  bigger  Latins 
have  migrated  hither?  Or  have  we  here  the  re- 
sult of  a more  generous  nourishment?  Certainly 
Buenos  Aires  with  its  million  and  a half  inhabit- 
ants is  a veritable  Niagara  of  human  power.  The 
people  look  ruddy  and  vigorous.  Their  move- 
ments are  swift  and  energetic  and  the  pace  of  the 
street  recalls  the  bee-line  rush  of  the  business  dis- 
trict in  Denver  or  Seattle. 

Argentina  has  the  destiny  of  a white  man’s 
country.  In  the  hot  provinces  of  the  North,  to  be 
sure,  you  find  a considerable  substratum  of  Indian 
mestizos,  but  for  the  nation  as  a whole  I doubt  if 
the  proportion  of  non-Caucasian  blood  is  over  five 


120 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


per  cent.  For  our  own  people  those  returned  as 
non-white  constitute  eleven  per  cent,  and  the  non- 
Caucasian  blood  cannot  be  less  than  eight  or  nine 
per  cent.  Racially  no  people  of  the  Western 
Hemisphere,  save  the  Canadians,  is  so  European 
as  are  the  Argentines.  The  working  class,  white, 
eager  and  self-assertive,  gladdens  the  traveler’s 
heart  by  its  profound  contrast  with  the  dark,  ill- 
clad,  slow-moving,  down-trodden,  apathetic  labor- 
ing mass  that  is  present  in  some  degree  every- 
where else  in  South  America. 

As  absorber  of  European  immigrants  Argentina 
comes  second  only  to  the  United  States,  and  we 
may  yet  see  it  take  the  lead.  Spaniards  and 
Italians  predominate,  and,  although  the  latter  have 
been  decidedly  in  excess,  the  immigration  from 
Spain  has  in  the  last  four  years  surpassed  that 
from  Italy.  While  the  United  States  has  ab- 
sorbed great  numbers  of  the  chaffy  sort  from 
Naples  and  Sicily,  Argentina  has  attracted  chiefly 
North  Italians,  who  are  much  superior,  and  who 
engage  in  commerce  rather  than  in  earthwork. 
Her  Italians  are  of  bigger  mold  than  ours  and  not 
much  given  to  gesticulation.  Among  them  you 
note  heads  like  those  you  have  seen  on  the  can- 
vases of  Tuscan  and  Umbrian  painters.  No 
doubt  it  is  owing  to  this  excellent  North  Italian 
blood  that  the  women  in  even  the  poorer  quarters 
of  Buenos  Aires  are  so  comely  and  their  children 
so  remarkably  pretty.  Ugly  children  are  far 
rarer  there  than  in  the  corresponding  parts  of 
our  own  cities. 


ARGENTINA 


121 


Although  the  scientific  men  of  France  and  Italy 
have  written  much  on  ‘ ‘ the  decadence  of  the  Latin 
peoples”  and  the  rest  of  us  have  politely  accepted 
their  judgment,  the  student  of  races  will  do  well  to 
keep  an  eye  on  Argentina.  It  is  rapidly  filling 
up  from  the  Iberian  and  Italian  peninsulas  and 
bids  fair  to  become  for  the  south  European 
brunets  what  the  United  States  once  was  for 
Anglo-Saxons  and  Celts.  As  the  traveler  trav- 
erses these  vast,  sparsely  populated  regions, 
which  within  the  lifetime  of  our  children  will  cer- 
tainly be  the  home  of  thirty,  perhaps  forty,  mil- 
lions of  human  beings,  it  dawns  upon  him  that 
here  under  his  eyes  the  Latins  are  blooming  again. 
Economic  opportunity  has  called  into  being  hope, 
and  hope  is  the  parent  of  that  energy  and  that 
fecundity  which  make  a great  people. 

For,  indeed,  Argentina  is  a land  of  hope,  the 
first  country  I found  below  Panama  where  life  is 
on  the  up  curve,  not  for  traders  and  planters  alone, 
— men  with  capital, — but  for  the  wage-earners  as 
well.  The  conventillas  or  congested  slum  courts, 
which  play  so  great  a part  in  the  housing  of  the 
poor  in  Lima  and  Santiago,  have  nearly  all  disap- 
peared from  Buenos  Aires.  But  whither  have  the 
wage-earners  gone?  Out  toward  the  outskirts  of 
the  vast  tentacular  mass — perhaps  eight  or  ten 
miles  from  the  docks  where  the  greatest  numbers 
are  employed — one  notices  numerous  little  one- 
room  stucco  houses  with  a blank  wall  facing  the 
street  and  a bit  of  garden  in  front.  These  are 
embryo  homes,  coming  into  existence  on  the  instal- 


122 


SOUTH  OP  PANAMA 


ment  plan.  The  workingman  buys  a house  lot 
on  long  time,  paying  one  or  two  dollars  a month. 
Near  the  rear  end  he  builds  a single  room,  in  a 
year  or  two  he  has  put  a bedroom  in  front  of  it 
and  later,  as  his  family  expands  or  he  gets  ahead, 
he  adds  a couple  of  rooms  toward  the  street.  Lo ! 
a complete  little  home  with  molded  fagade  and 
with  flowers  in  front  as  is  the  South  European 
way.  Thus  by  the  time  his  children  are  grown  the 
wage-earner  has  a property  worth  from  $1200  to 
$3000 — no  great  sum  from  the  view-point  of  an 
American  wage-earner,  but  a bonanza  in  the  eyes 
of  a West  Coast  laborer. 

IMMIGRATION. 

The  Government  provides  at  Buenos  Aires 
an  intelligent  and  humane  immigration  service 
closely  modeled  on  the  greatest  service  of  the  kind 
in  the  world,  namely,  that  of  Ellis  Island.  There 
is  a huge  “immigrants’  hotel”  where  the  aliens 
are  allowed  to  remain  up  to  five  days  free  of 
charge.  Those  entering  the  country  for  the  first 
time  receive  free  transportation  to  any  part  of 
Argentina.  Even  wives  coming  out  to  join  their 
husbands  are  forwarded  without  expense.  Span- 
ish and  Italian  newcomers  need  little  care,  for 
they  have  the  language  and  all  are  going  to  join 
friends.  Nearly  a quarter  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  capital  are  Italians  and  well  nigh  half  are 
foreign  born.  It  is  the  German,  British,  Scandi- 
navian, and  Russian  immigrants  that  need  aid  in 
getting  established.  Often  by  means  of  telegrams 


ARGENTINA 


123 


a place  is  found  for  the  immigrant  ere  he  starts 
inland.  The  immigrant  young  women  are  in 
great  demand  for  domestic  service  in  Buenos 
Aires  and  a room  is  provided  where  ladies  may 
meet  and  engage  them.  But  before  a girl  takes  a 
place  the  inspectors  make  sure  that  the  mistress 
is  a decent  woman  and  not  a “white  slaver.”  Ow- 
ing to  this  danger,  an  effort  is  being  made  to 
establish  a home  in  which  immigrant  girls  may 
stay  until  they  are  properly  placed. 

Every  effort  is  made  to  get  the  immigrant  men 
and  families  past  the  lure  of  the  capital  and  into 
the  spacious  interior,  where  their  labor  is  needed 
and  opportunity  abounds.  In  one  room  of  the 
station  is  maintained  an  exhibit  of  farm  machin- 
ery in  the  hope  that  the  immigrants  may  become 
interested  in  these  implements,  so  unlike  what 
they  are  used  to,  and  take  a fancy  to  engage  in 
the  ultra-modern  farming  of  Argentina.  The  em- 
ployees of  the  hotel  are  regularly  instructed  in  the 
economic  geography  of  the  country  so  that  they 
may  meet  all  enquirers  and  turn  them  toward  the 
best  chances.  Every  evening  after  supper  an 
illustrated  lecture  is  given  in  the  great  dining- 
room of  the  hotel,  showing  life  in  the  interior, 
characteristic  products,  industrial  successes,  etc. ; 
but  never  is  there  thrown  on  the  screen  a scene 
from  the  city.  At  the  chief  points  in  the  interior 
are  stationed  government  agents  to  whom  parties 
of  immigrants  may  be  consigned.  Apprised  by 
telegram,  the  agent  meets  the  train  bearing  the 
immigrants,  looks  after  their  needs,  and  attends 


124 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


to  their  further  disposition.  Each  provincial  cap- 
ital, too,  has  its  immigration  bureau  with  accom- 
modations which  the  alien  may  enjoy  free  up  to 
ten  days. 

Besides  those  who  come  to  stay,  there  is  an  im- 
mense seasonal  movement  of  agricultural  labor- 
ers between  Argentina  and  southern  Europe — the 
famous  ‘ ‘ swallow  migration.  ’ ’ Taking  advantage 
of  the  reversal  of  the  seasons  below  the  Line,  tens 
of  thousands  of  farm  hands,  after  the  crops  have 
been  gathered  at  home,  take  steerage  passage  for 
Argentina  where  they  work  through  the  harvest 
season  at  good  wages.  Then  they  return  home, 
where  living  is  cheaper  and  life  more  interesting. 
This  splitting  of  the  year  between  two  hemi- 
spheres is,  I fancy,  a new  thing  in  the  life  of  man- 
kind, but  no  doubt  it  will  be  commonplace  enough 
to  our  children. 

During  the  next  half  century  or  more  Argentina 
is  to  be  the  great  receptacle  of  immigration,  the 
big  melting  pot,  and  so  through  all  this  time  she 
is  bound  to  exhibit  the  characteristics  of  a new, 
half-formed  people.  National  character  will  be 
wavering  and  uncertain.  Good  customs  will  not 
have  time  to  strike  root  before  they  are  washed 
away  in  the  flood  of  motley  newcomers.  It  will 
not  be  safe  to  take  much  for  granted.  There  will 
be  confusion  as  to  standards  and  unsettledness  as 
to  many  points  on  which  an  old  people  has  long 
had  its  mind  made  up  and  its  decisions  fixed  in  tra- 
ditions which  do  not  admit  of  defiance  or  discus- 
sion. Continually  the  elite  will  set  good  examples 


MM 


San  Martin  Falls,  Iguazu,  Argentina 


“Christ  the  Redeemer,’’  on  Andean  Boundary  between  C hileand  Argentina 


ARGENTINA 


127 


and  precedents  for  the  rest  and  continually  the 
notions  and  ways  of  the  unassimilated  immigrants 
will  weaken  standards  in  Argentina,  as  in  our  own 
time  they  have  weakened  them  with  us.  There 
will  be  the  openmindedness,  the  boyish  eagerness 
to  learn,  the  enthusiasm  for  betterment  that  char- 
acterize a young  hopeful  people,  but  there  will 
also  be  a deal  of  cropping  out  of  raw  human  na- 
ture, and  the  collective  mind  will  be  turbid  like  a 
stream  in  freshet. 

While  there  is  growth  and  prosperity  in  store 
for  this  new  people,  there  is  room  for  doubt  if  it 
is  likely  to  manifest  as  much  initiative  and  force 
of  character  as  the  American  people  has  shown. 
Among  the  founders  of  Argentina  one  does  not 
find  religious  groups  refusing  to  be  crushed  into 
acquiescence  by  an  established  church.  They 
were  simply  bold  men  bent  on  adventure  or  profit, 
not  rebels,  independents,  and  come-outers.  Well 
might  President  Roca  declare  in  1898  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  new  port  works  in  Rosario : 

“The  proud  conquerors  who,  with  their  peculiar  no- 
tions of  liberty,  trod  under  their  iron  heel  portions  of 
the  South  American  continent  were  very  different  from 
those  Pilgrim  Fathers  who  landed  in  New  England  with 
no  arms  but  the  Bible,  and  no  purpose  save  to  establish 
a commonwealth  based  on  the  principles  of  civil  and 
religious  liberty.” 

Not  only  is  Argentina  without  these  precious 
idealistic  stocks,  but  the  huge  immigration — 
recent  and  to  come — that  is  to  fix  the  soul  and 


128 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


determine  the  character  of  the  Argentine  people, 
is  selected  more  by  economic  motives  than  the 
great  nineteenth-century  influx  into  the  United 
States.  One  may  therefore  reasonably  question 
whether  the  great  southern  republic  will  pursue  as 
individual  a path  or  contribute  to  humanity  as 
many  ideas  and  institutions  as  has  the  republic 
of  the  North. 


LAND  MONOPOLY 

A half  century  ago  at  the  time  the  United 
States,  at  the  instance  of  democratic  social  re- 
formers, was  adopting  for  the  distribution  of  its 
public  lands  the  thrice-blessed  homestead  system, 
the  Government  of  Argentina  was  short-sighted 
enough  to  be  willing  to  alienate  to  a single  indi- 
vidual, Pedro  Luro,  a Basque  immigrant,  a hun- 
dred square  leagues,  or  625,000  acres,  of  good  soil 
at  a price  averaging  three  and  one-half  cents  an 
acre!  He  got  fifty  Basque  families  upon  his 
grant  and  several  of  them  became  millionaires, 
for  the  land  to-day  is  worth  500  times  what  Luro 
paid  for  it.  This  same  Luro,  who  in  1837  at  the 
age  of  seventeen  landed  at  Buenos  Aires  with  a 
few  shillings  in  his  pocket,  died  some  years  ago 
owning  nearly  a million  acres  of  land  besides  half 
a million  sheep  and  150,000  cattle. 

In  1879  General  Roca  entrapped  and  extermi- 
nated the  roving  savages  of  the  pampa  and  the 
Government  thereby  became  master  of  a hundred 
million  acres  of  fertile  land.  “From  this  epoch,” 
writes  an  Argentine  economist,  “dates  the  real 


ARGENTINA 


129 


progress  of  the  republic.  With  the  greater  secur- 
ity of  the  back  country,  with  the  rapid  building  of 
railroads,  with  the  harbor  improvements  at 
Buenos  Aires,  immigration  set  in  and  every  year 
agriculture  gained  in  importance.  The  introduc- 
tion of  steam-driven  farm  machinery  contributed 
much  to  this  development. 

“As  land  gained  in  value  public  lands  were 
eagerly  sought.  In  all  the  provinces  persons  with 
money  or  political  influence  or  a military  record 
acquired  great  tracts  at  trifling  cost.  In  order  to 
cover  the  cost  of  Roca’s  expedition  the  greater 
part  of  the  soil  conquered  from  the  wilderness  was 
alienated  at  a price  of  three  cents  an  acre  and  the 
remainder  divided  among  the  officers  who  took 
part  in  the  expedition.  Thus  the  latifundia  sys- 
tem was  fastened  upon  the  country.” 

To-day  one  hears  of  single  proprietors  or  com- 
panies owning  300,000,  400,000,  even  500,000  acres, 
and  in  the  newer  territories  to  the  south  there 
are  holdings  of  a million  and  a quarter  acres.  In 
the  far  North  nearly  under  the  Tropic  of  Capri- 
corn I met  an  Englishman  who  with  his  brothers 
has  a ranch  which  the  train  takes  the  best  part  of 
a day  to  cross.  Probably  never  in  modern  times 
has  a government,  controlled  evidently  by  pro- 
moters and  speculators  caring  nothing  for  the 
healthy  democratic  development  of  the  country, 
flung  about  territory  so  recklessly.  If  the  public 
domain  had  been  offered  as  free  homesteads  to 
actual  settlers,  millions  who  are  now  American 
citizens  would  to-day  be  speaking  Spanish  under 


130 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  Southern  Cross.  Formerly  the  smallest  unit 
the  Government  ever  considered  was  the  square 
league  and  the  sole  question  was  how  many  such 
leagues  the  grantee  should  obtain.  The  land  law 
of  1903,  however,  forbids  the  alienation  of  more 
than  6250  acres  of  public  land  to  a single  person 
and  the  land  officials  told  me  they  are  getting 
down  to  the  square  mile  as  the  unit  even  in  the 
newest  territories.  Sobered  by  the  consciousness 
of  past  mistakes,  the  Government  is  studying  how 
to  get  the  rest  of  its  domain — which  is  still  exten- 
sive— into  the  hands  of  bona  fide  settlers.  Even 
yet,  however,  the  value  imparted  to  private  hold- 
ings of  wild  land — amounting  often  to  a hundred- 
fold increase — by  government  railroads  and  irri- 
gation works,  is  all  harvested  by  speculators, 
while  the  public  lands  within  the  zone  of  influence 
of  the  railway  are  auctioned  off  without  imposing 
on  the  buyer  any  obligation  to  settle  upon  and 
improve  his  plot. 

Between  1895  and  1908  the  number  of  land  hold- 
ings in  Argentina  appears  to  have  increased  from 

172.000  to  227,000  or  30  per  cent.  Of  the  latter 
number  about  13,000  ranged  in  size  from  750  to 
1250  acres,  11,000  from  1250  to  2500  acres,  10,000 
from  2500  to  6250  acres,  5000  from  6250  to  12,500 
acres,  2800  from  12,500  to  25,000  acres,  1200  from 

25.000  to  62,500  acres,  233  from  62,000  to  125,000 
acres,  and  a thousand  above  125,000  acres.  Never- 
theless, a fifth  of  all  the  holdings  are  less  than  25 
acres  in  extent  and  a quarter  run  from  25  to  125 
acres. 


ARGENTINA 


131 


Through  the  inheritance  of  co-heirs  some  of  the 
latifundia  are  breaking  up  of  themselves.  A 
lawyer  told  me  of  a case  known  to  him  in  which  an 
estate  of  seventy  square  leagues  originating  no 
longer  ago  than  1880,  had  already  in  part  been 
broken  up  into  one-league  holdings  by  division 
first  among  the  children  and  later  among  the 
grandchildren  of  the  grantee. 

Then,  too,  there  is  an  encouraging  tendency, 
after  grazing  gives  way  to  grain  growing,  to  di- 
vide the  large  holdings  among  tenants,  who  may 
become  owners.  In  the  Province  of  Cordoba  even 
the  raw  immigrant  does  not  work  for  wages 
but  rents  land  for  one-fifth  of  the  crop.  The 
store  will  carry  him  until  his  crop  is  harvested. 
Unless  it  is  a bad  season  the  thrifty  but  penniless 
immigrant  in  a year  or  two  buys  a plot  on  time, 
paying  very  little  cash  and  giving  a mortgage  for 
most  of  the  purchase  price.  Although  the  lati- 
fundia are  thus  being  nibbled  away,  the  process  is 
so  slow  that  the  governor  of  the  province  has 
been  authorized  to  buy  large  tracts  and  resell 
them  in  lots  of  from  50  to  250  acres  on  fifteen  or 
twenty  years  ’ time. 

Far  to  the  north  in  the  lovely  valley  of  Salta — 
so  like  certain  valleys  of  California — one  sees 
again  how  the  original  mal-distribution  of  the  pub- 
lic domain  is  being  corrected.  The  average  hold- 
ing of  irrigated  land  is  perhaps  500  acres,  worth 
$50,000  or  $60,000;  but  the  tendency  is  steadily 
toward  smaller  farms.  Estates  break  up  through 
the  equal  inheritance  of  children.  The  advent  of 


132 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  railroad  causes  a shift  from  grazing  to  tillage, 
which  promotes  subdivision,  especially  as  agricul- 
ture tends  to  become  more  intensive.  Then  there 
is  the  moral  and  intellectual  advance  of  the  peon 
class,  owing  to  the  influence  of  common  schools, 
newspapers,  and  military  service.  First  the  peon 
from  being  a wage  laborer  becomes  a tenant,  and 
then  from  tenancy  he  rises  to  the  ownership  of 
the  30  acres  or  so  of  irrigated  land  which  will  keep 
a family  busy.  It  is  by  such  process  that  the  num- 
ber of  farms  in  older  provinces  like  Buenos  Aires, 
Cordoba,  and  Santa  Fe  increased,  in  the  decade 
1901-1911,  respectively  57  per  cent.,  60  per  cent., 
and  80  per  cent.,  while  in  a latifundia  territory  like 
the  Central  Pampa  the  number  doubled. 

But  there  are  shadows.  In  the  older  provinces, 
after  the  land  has  been  cropped  from  three  to  five 
years,  it  becomes  weedy  and  needs  to  be  seeded 
down  and  grazed.  The  landowner  who  will  rent 
his  estate  for  farming  will  not  rent  it  for  grazing, 
because  he  can  make  more  by  handling  it  himself 
with  the  aid  of  hired  peons.  So  in  order  to  get 
land  his  tenants  have  to  remove  to  some  other 
district,  thereby  losing  that  valuable  personal 
credit  which  accrues  to  the  good  man  who  lives 
permanently  in  one  neighborhood.  In  some  parts 
a middleman  or  dealer  rents  a big  tract  for  a dol- 
lar or  two  an  acre,  divides  it  into  farms  and  sub- 
lets them  for  wheat  growing  for  a third  of  the  crop 
in  sacks — a rental  perhaps  six  times  as  great  as 
he  has  paid.  By  their  contract  his  tenants  are 
obliged  to  obtain  of  him  all  their  sacks  and  farm 


ARGENTINA 


133 


implements,  to  have  their  crop  threshed  by  his 
machine,  to  sell  him  their  crop,  and  to  buy  all  their 
supplies  at  his  store.  On  each  of  these  transac- 
tions the  dealer  gouges,  and  these  profits  added  to 
the  rent  leave  the  tenant  scarcely  enough  to  keep 
body  and  soul  together.  The  game  is  to  prevent 
the  tenant  making  anything,  and  in  a promising 
season,  after  the  danger  of  crop  failure  has  passed 
away,  it  is  the  storekeeper’s  duty  to  shove  on  to 
the  tenant  customer  all  the  goods  he  possibly  can, 
so  as  to  have  a big  bill  to  present  to  him  after  his 
crop  is  sold. 

In  1912  in  the  province  of  Santa  Fe  the  tenants 
reached  such  a pitch  of  desperation  that  they 
united  and  went  on  strike  against  the  one-sided 
contracts  which  bound  them  hand  and  foot. 
Barns  were  burned,  farm  machinery  smashed, 
fence  wires  cut,  and  beatings  dealt  out  to  non- 
strikers. Many  small  farmers,  once  tenants  them- 
selves, joined  with  the  strikers  to  help  them  out. 
The  dues  to  the  tenants’  association  were  two 
cents  the  acre,  and  some  members  in  order  to  pay 
these  dues  sold  the  sole  live  stock  they  possessed, 
their  chickens.  Alarmed  by  the  rising,  the  mid- 
dlemen lowered  rents  and  agreed  to  let  their  ten- 
ants buy  and  sell  as  they  pleased.  Out  of  this 
movement  ought  to  come  the  regulation  of  tenancy 
contracts  by  law.  Farm-owners,  in  the  hands  of 
merchants’  and  grain  buyers’  trusts,  are  some- 
times little  better  off  than  tenants,  and  there  is  a 
growing  demand  for  cooperative  elevators,  rural 
cooperative  insurance  and  rural  credit  associa- 


134 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


tions,  and  for  extending  to  small  farmers  the  serv- 
ices of  the  government  mortgage  hanks. 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  ARGENTINA 

Argentina  is  the  one  South  American  society 
I studied  which  is  plainly  shifting  from  the  old 
colonial  foundations.  Forty  years  ago,  no  doubt, 
it  was  as  truly  the  heir  of  Spain  a’s  Colombia  or 
Peru.  But  the  rush  of  material  development,  the 
flood  of  cosmopolitan  immigration,  the  rapid 
growth  of  riches  and  the  exciting  prospect  of  the 
future  have  made  the  soul  of  this  people  plastic. 

The  leaders  are  openminded  and  welcome 
change.  “Progress”  has  become  a term  to  con- 
jure with.  They  wish  not  only  railroads  and  irri- 
gation works,  packing  houses  and  sugar  refineries, 
they  are  willing  to  consider  new  institutions  and 
ideals  of  life.  The  ascendant  element  has  come  to 
misdoubt  the  very  spiritual  foundations  of  the  old 
society  as  you  find  it  still  in  half-colonial  interior 
centers  like  Cordoba  and  Salta — its  disdain  of 
labor,  its  indolence,  its  contempt  for  business,  its 
reserve  and  personal  pride,  its  social  exclusive- 
ness, its  masculinism,  its  seclusion  of  women,  its 
patriarchal  customs,  its  clericalism,  its  spirit  of 
authority  and  its  hostility  to  the  ‘ ‘ gringo.  ’ ’ Any- 
thing that  has  worked  well  in  the  advanced  coun- 
tries now  obtains  an  attentive  hearing  in  Argen- 
tina. Its  policy  of  lay  education,  its  democratic 
school  system,  its  education  of  girls,  its  normal 
schools,  its  reliance  upon  the  woman  elementary 
teacher,  its  cultivation  of  athletic  sports,  its  boy 


Mount  Aconcagua  from  Argentina 


Valley  of  the  Aconcagua  River,  Chile 


ARGENTINA 


137 


scouts,  its  public  libraries,  its  bacteriological 
laboratories,  its  experiment  stations,  its  boards  of 
health,  its  National  Department  of  Agriculture, 
which  spends  half  as  much  as  the  United  States 
Department  of  Agriculture — all  these  innovations 
witness  to  the  willingness  of  Argentina  to  risk 
change  of  soul.  Her  eager,  forward  look  gives 
assurance  that  in  time  she  will  have  even  library 
schools,  college  settlements,  public  playgrounds, 
athletic  ‘ ‘meets,”  social  centers,  local  institutions 
and  all  other  things  which  have  been  found  good 
elsewhere. 

To  be  sure,  the  new  institutions  and  agencies 
have  not  yet  had  time  greatly  to  affect  the  national 
soul.  The  character  of  the  people  is  still  “South 
American” — with  modifications  due  to  economic 
opportunity  and  to  an  enormous  influx  of  foreign- 
ers. But  in  view  of  the  influences  being  brought 
to  bear  on  the  rising  generation  one  may  expect  a 
great  change  in  spirit  within  our  own  time.  The 
aristocratic  prejudices  and  values  are  going  rap- 
idly. Obviously  the  forces  contending  for  the  soul 
of  the  Argentine  people  are  the  same  that  we 
know  so  well — democracy  and  plutocracy.  The 
problem  is  how  to  transform  the  spirit  of  the  cre- 
ole society  without  at  the  same  time  losing  the 
poise,  the  self-restraint,  the  sense  of  honor  and  the 
idealism  fostered  in  the  dominant  element  of  the 
old  regime,  just  as  they  were  fostered  in  the  by- 
gone planter  aristocracy  of  the  old  South. 

The  Argentines  are  the  one  South  American 
people  likely  to  have  enough  in  common  with  us 


138 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


to  found  a genuine  friendship  on.  Our  people 
ought  to  feel  a sisterly  sympathy  with  this  new 
motley  people,  engaged  in  subduing  the  wilder- 
ness and  making  it  the  seat  of  civilization.  We 
ought  to  understand  the  problems  forced  upon 
them  by  the  disposal  of  a vast  public  domain,  the 
urgent  need  of  means  of  transportation,  the  ex- 
clusive reliance  upon  foreign  capital,  excessive 
dependence  upon  oversea  markets,  heterogeneous 
immigration,  sudden  fortunes,  the  spread  of  the 
get-rich-quick  spirit,  wastefulness  in  government 
expenditures  and  the  reign  of  sordid  interests  in 
public  life.  Have  we  not  had  them  all?  On  the 
other  hand  the  Argentines  ought  to  feel  a sym- 
pathy with  us  because  we  have  had  most  of  their 
experiences,  because  by  the  study  of  our  history 
they  are  able  to  avoid  certain  costly  errors  we 
committed,  and  because  the  institutions  we  have 
fashioned  in  order  to  help  us  realize  our  demo- 
cratic ideal  seem  better  suited  to  their  needs  than 
those  of  any  other  country. 


CHAPTER  VI 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE 

THE  Spaniards  brought  with  them  to  the  New 
World  the  old  Latin  fondness  for  town  life 
and  few  of  their  descendants  have  ever  acquired 
rural  tastes.  The  extreme  backwardness  of  coun- 
try in  comparison  with  town  is,  in  fact,  to-day 
one  of  the  chief  things  marking  off  Latin  America 
from  what  I may  call  Anglo-America,  i.e.,  the 
United  States  and  Canada.  In  the  Cauca  Valley 
in  Colombia  I noticed  that  the  owners  of  agricul- 
tural land  do  not  live  on  their  farms  if  it  is  possi- 
ble to  manage  them  from  town.  Every  Monday 
large  numbers,  leaving  their  families  in  Cali,  ride 
out  to  their  farms  up  and  down  the  valley,  and 
there  they  remain  most  of  the  week.  Even 
greater,  I am  told,  is  the  infatuation  for  the 
capital.  The  land  of  the  fertile  plateau  of  Bogota 
is  held  in  large  estates,  the*  owners  of  which  live 
for  the  most  part  in  Bogota  and  daily  go  out, 
often  a long  distance,  in  order  to  direct  their 
peons. 

All  the  productive  land  of  the  Ecuador  Sierra, 
save  the  toilsome  and  hazardous  tillage  the 
patient  Indians  have  pushed  far  up  the  bleak 
flanks  of  the  volcanoes,  is  owned  by  absentees,  who 
live  in  Riobamba,  Ambato,  or  Quito — when  they 

139 


140 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


do  not  live  in  Paris — and  leave  their  estates — 
sometimes  of  vast  extent — to  be  managed  by  a 
mayor  domo  of  mixed  blood.  There  are  no  inde- 
pendent white  farmers  tilling  land  of  their  own, 
nor  is  there  a rural  gentry  as  in  Europe.  The 
landowner  lives  in  town  and  an  occasional  visit 
on  horseback  to  his  hacienda  does  little  to  mod- 
ernize an  agriculture  that  descends  directly  from 
that  of  the  Incas. 

He  never  dreams  of  settling  his  family  on  his 
hacienda,  for  the  country  lacks  roads,  decent 
houses,  wells,  police,  postmen,  schools,  and  so- 
ciety. It  is  not  that  the  landed  families  here  have 
given  up  country  residence  and  removed  to  town, 
as  we  have  seen  them  do  in  other  parts  of  the 
world.  They  never  lived  on  their  estates,  not  even 
in  colonial  times.  From  the  conquest  on,  the 
Spanish  dwelt  in  towns  under  protection  and  re- 
quired their  encomienda,  or  assignment  of  agricul- 
tural Indians,  to  send  in  produce  and  servants  for 
the  town  household.  Later,  when  grants  were  of 
land  rather  than  of  serfs,  the  master  took  more 
notice  of  agriculture,  but  it  will  yet  be  long  before 
he  lives  out  on  his  hacienda  and  helps  form  a rural 
society. 

It  is  much  the  same  in  Peru  and  Bolivia.  The 
glitter  of  Lima,  Arequipa,  and  La  Paz  is  chiefly 
agricultural  in  origin,  though,  to  be  sure,  one  must 
not  forget  the  wealth  from  the  mines.  The  cur- 
rent that  feeds  these  arc  lamps  of  civilization  is 
not  rents  paid  by  tenants,  but  the  profits  from  the 
direct  cultivation  of  estates  by  means  of  semi- 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  141 

servile  labor.  An  American,  long  established  in 
Cuzco,  thus  sums  up  what  he  sees  about  him : 

The  passion  for  city  life  deters  the  owner  of  a large 
place  from  living  on  it  and  improving  it.  He  leaves 
much  to  his  administrador,  who  robs  him  of  course,  and 
agriculture  goes  on  as  in  the  days  of  Solomon.  The 
reading  of  an  agricultural  journal  like  La  Hacienda — 
published,  be  it  noted,  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y., — has  absolutely 
no  effect  upon  their  methods.  On  the  tinea  everything 
is  done  according  to  the  time  of  the  moon. 

Thus  the  inherited  contempt  for  rural  life  and 
distaste  for  things  bucolic  acts  like  a ball-and- 
chain  on  the  economic  advancement  of  these 
countries.  No  alert,  progressive  resident  farm- 
ers ; no  enlightened  country  gentlemen  vying  with 
one  another  in  the  improvement  of  breeds  or  mak- 
ing elaborate  experiments  in  tillage;  no  agricul- 
tural fairs;  no  stimulating  agricultural  press;  no 
development  of  an  intelligent,  prosperous  rural 
population.  Special  crops,  like  sugar  and  coffee, 
do  receive  some  expert  attention,  but  in  general 
the  landowners  are  mere  parasites  on  agricul- 
ture, absorbing  all  the  profits  but  furnishing  noth- 
ing in  the  way  of  capital  or  intelligence. 

In  Chile  the  hacendados  had  country  residence 
forced  upon  them  by  their  slaves  being  wild 
Mapuches,  not  docile  Kechuas.  Hence  the  mas- 
ter class  acquired  a rural  habit  that  has  made  it 
more  English  than  any  gentry  in  South  America. 
Of  late  its  taste  has  changed  and  with  it  have 
shifted  the  very  foundations  of  Chilean  society 


142 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


and  government.  Formerly  the  landed  families 
lived  on  their  estates  the  year  round  save  for  a 
short  season  in  winter.  Now  town  life  is  every- 
thing to  them  and  they  stay  on  the  hacienda  for 
only  two  and  three  months  in  the  year. 

Through  the  park-like  Central  Valley  the  small 
towns  ministering  to  the  country-side  are  stag- 
nating because  more  and  more  the  big  landown- 
ers spend  their  time  and  money  in  siren  Santiago, 
while  the  little  ones  haunt  some  provincial  capital 
like  Chilian  or  Talca.  Observed  a shrewd  ranch- 
man: “The  duenos  about  here  all  live  in  towns 

with  the  result  that  they  net  little  from  their 
estates.  The  mayor  domo  gets  the  profits  while 
the  owner  gets  the  experience.”  Often  I heard 
it  remarked  that  the  landowners  who  interest 
themselves  in  starting  rural  schools  or  providing 
better  dwellings  for  their  inquilinos  will  be  resi- 
dents of  the  nearest  town,  who  have  kept  in  touch 
with  their  haciendas.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
estates  most  neglected  and  the  inquilinos  least 
considered  belong  to  absentees  who  have  become 
extravagant  and  insatiable  from  trying  to  keep 
up  with  the  smart  set  of  the  capital.  Santiago  is 
ruining  the  rural  gentry  of  Chile  as  Paris  and 
Versailles  ruined  the  feudal  nobility  of  France. 

A Chilean  author,  Encina,  after  referring  to 
“the  habit  contracted  by  the  rural  proprietors  of 
living  in  town,  leaving  to  hirelings  the  manage-* 
ment  of  their  agricultural  affairs,”  says:  “This 
has  been  one  of  the  factors  which  has  most  hin- 
dered our  agricultural  development  during  the 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  143 

last  thirty  years.  Confided  to  rule-of-thumb 
countrymen  or  to  employees  who  have  no  interest 
in  improving  them  or  in  increasing  production, 
some  of  the  big  estates  have  deteriorated,  many 
have  stood  still,  and  all  have  failed  to  advance  as 
they  would  have  done  if  the  owners  had  continued 
to  reside  upon  them.” 

After  pointing  out  that  it  was  the  more  capable 
and  intelligent  proprietors  who  first  abandoned 
the  countryside  Encina  remarks:  “The  great 
mass  of  country  dwellers  with  aboriginal  blood, 
deprived  of  the  strong  civilizing  influence  which 
the  higher  element,  until  then  in  close  contact  with 
them,  had  exercised  through  suggestion,  could  not 
progress  as  formerly.  Their  moral  development 
was  checked.  Lacking  leadership  they  stagnated, 
even  retrograded.  The  countryman  became  more 
lazy,  drunken,  and  careless  when  he  did  not  turn 
thief  or  bandit.’ ’ “The  absence  of  the  more  civ- 
ilized element  engendered  in  the  open  country  an 
increase  of  robbery  and  assault,  the  relaxation  of 
justice  and  the  neglect  of  the  highways.  ’ ’ 

In  the  south  of  Chile  the  German  landowner,  a 
type  about  as  plain  and  thrifty  as  our  Pennsyl- 
vania German,  lives  on  his  place  and  improves  it, 
while  the  Chilean  with  an  estate  no  bigger  lives 
in  town  and  farms  from  the  saddle.  If  the  Ger- 
man merchant  has  a farm,  he  goes  out  to  it  often 
and  looks  after  it  very  closely.  The  difference  in 
financial  return  is  so  marked  that  the  Chileans 
begin  to  follow  the  sound  example  of  their  German 
neighbors ; so  that  the  province  of  Llanquihue  bids 


144 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


fair  to  develop  a wholesome  rural  life  sooner  than 
any  other  part  of  South  America. 

In  Argentina,  where  there  was  no  native  popu- 
lation to  till  the  soil,  the  Spanish  colonists  had  to 
live  out  on  their  ranches  and  form  some  kind  of 
rural  society.  The  Latin  love  of  town  life  was 
never  extinguished,  as  we  see  from  the  mushroom 
growth  of  Buenos  Aires;  but  on  the  huge  rancli- 
erias  grew  up  an  expansive,  free-handed,  patri- 
archal manner  of  life  which  must  have  been  very 
similar  to  that  which  prevailed  in  old  California 
before  the  advent  of  the  1 1 gringos.  ’ ’ 

THE  LABOR  SYSTEM 

Most  travelers  in  South  America  have  no  eye 
for  the  fundamentals  which  make  society  there  so 
different  from  our  own.  One  may  read  a bushel 
of  the  books  visitors  have  written  on  these  coun- 
tries without  ever  learning  the  momentous  basic 
fact  that  from  the  Rio  Grande  down  the  West 
Coast  to  Cape  Horn,  free  agricultural  labor  as  we 
know  it  does  not  exist.  In  general,  the  laborers 
on  the  estates  are  at  various  stages  of  mitigation 
of  the  once  universal  slavery  into  which  the  native 
populations  were  crushed  by  the  iron  heel  of  the 
conquistador. 

TYPES  OF  COLONIZATION  IN  AMERICA 

To  account  for  this  servile  stamp  one  must  ap- 
preciate the  profound  contrast  between  English 
America  and  Spanish  America  in  the  relation  of 
the  colonizing  whites  to  the  natives.  The  North 


Pack  train  bringing  coffee  out  of  the  Cauca  Valley,  Colombia 


Cali.  “The  King's  Palace,  without  the  king 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  147 

American  Indians,  inasmuch  as  they  had  not 
emerged  from  the  hunting  stage,  could  not  be  en- 
slaved; they  were  too  “wild.”  So  the  English 
colonist  slew  them,  drove  them  away  or  bought 
them  off,  and  put  his  own  back  into  the  labors  of 
the  field.  The  Spaniard,  on  the  other  hand,  came 
upon  peoples  who  had  made  marked  advancement 
in  agriculture  and  the  industrial  arts.  Such  were 
the  Chibchas  of  Colombia,  the  Nescas,  Chimus, 
and  Kechuas  of  Ecuador  and  Peru,  the  Aymaras 
of  Bolivia,  to  some  extent  even  the  Mapuches  of 
Chile.  The  masterful  invaders  had  only  to  beat 
these  native  peoples  to  their  knees,  seat  them- 
selves firmly  on  their  backs,  and  remain  there 
while  the  Indians  washed  gold  for  them,  or  tended 
herds,  or  grew  food.  Thus  the  colonial  Spanish 
never  had  to  set  foot  upon  the  ground  and  their 
descendants  even  to-day  will  go  any  lengths  rather 
than  humble  themselves  to  the  physical  labor 
necessary  to  existence. 

Spain  never  really  colonized  her  possessions; 
she  exploited  them.  The  number  of  white  men 
who  subdued  the  New  World  was  trifling.  Cor- 
tez invaded  the  plateau  of  Mexico,  populated 
by  several  millions,  with  a band  of  553  men 
and  finished  his  conquest  with  the  aid  of  the  880 
soldiers  of  de  Narvaez  together  with  a few  squads 
of  adventurers.  Pizarro  brought  to  ground  the 
empire  of  the  Incas,  containing  perhaps  ten  mil- 
lion inhabitants,  with  310  soldiers,  to  which  were 
added  six  months  later  the  150  men  enlisted  at 
Panama  by  his  lieutenant,  Almagro.  Valdivia 


148 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


tackled  Chile,  inhabited  by  perhaps  half  a million 
natives  at  about  the  culture  level  of  the  Iroquois, 
with  150  Europeans,  later  reinforced  by  70  troop- 
ers from  Peru.  All  these  bands  were  aided  by 
thousands  of  native  auxiliaries  who  were  made  to 
bear  the  brunt  of  the  fighting  in  order  that  the 
precious  handful  of  white  horsemen  might  be  held 
in  reserve. 

The  English  colonies  in  America  were  peopled 
from  Holland,  France,  Germany  and  Sweden  as 
well  as  from  the  British  Isles.  Spain,  on  the  other 
hand,  allowed  none  but  her  own  subjects  to  settle 
in  her  possessions.  The  English  colonies  at- 
tracted great  numbers — Puritans,  Quakers, 

Huguenots,  Presbyterians  and  Roman  Catholics 
— who  preferred  the  hardships  of  the  wilderness 
to  suffering  religious  and  political  oppression. 
The  Spanish  colonies  offered  no  asylum  to  liberty- 
lovers,  while  their  mineral  riches  attracted  the 
avaricious  and  ruthless  rather  than  the  industri- 
ous and  frugal. 

LATIFUNDIA  AND  PEONAGE 

Broadly  speaking,  light  and  freedom  wax  as 
you  go  south  from  Panama.  Ecuador  is  less 
medieval  than  Colombia,  Peru  than  Ecuador, 
Chile  than  Peru.  Hence,  the  status  of  the  agri- 
cultural laborer,  which  is  at  its  nadir  in  Colombia, 
rises  gradually  until,  in  Argentina,  the  last  traces 
of  his  former  servile  condition  have  disappeared. 

In  the  rich  region  about  Pasto  in  southern 
Colombia  the  land  is  all  held  in  large  estates. 


LABOE,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  149 

There  is  no  chance  whatever  for  the  agricultural 
laborer  to  become  an  owner  of  land.  Four  days 
in  each  week — how  like  the  “boon-days”  the 
feudal  tenant  owed  his  lord! — he  is  bound  to  work 
at  a wage  of  from  five  to  ten  cents  a day,  in  return 
for  the  use  of  a plot  for  his  house  and  truck  patch. 
Of  course,  such  pitiful  earnings  do  not  suffice  for 
the  needs  of  his  family,  so  he  is  obliged  to  run  into 
debt  to  his  amo  or  master  for  money  or  supplies. 
Since  he  can  never  work  off  this  debt  and  the  law 
does  not  permit  him  to  leave  the  estate  until  it  is 
liquidated,  the  peon  becomes  virtually  a serf 
bound  to  work  all  his  life  for  a nominal  wage.  He 
can  change  employers  only  in  case  some  one  pays 
his  debt  and  this  binds  him  to  a new  master. 

An  Englishman  of  twenty-five  years’  residence 
in  Colombia  thus  describes  the  labor  system: 

The  peon  gets  ten  cents  a day  if  he  works,  but  is 
charged  twenty  cents  for  each  boon  day  he  fails  to  work. 
For  what  he  buys  through  his  patron  he  pays  double. 
If  he  is  in  the  way  of  getting  out  of  debt,  a timely  pres- 
ent of  a couple  of  bottles  of  aguardiente  will  make  him 
drunk,  and  in  this  expansive  mood  he  may  be  induced 
to  take  enough  goods  to  plunge  him  again  up  to  his  neck 
in  the  quagmire  of  debt.  In  a court  of  law  the  mas- 
ter’s book  account  always  outweighs  the  word  of  the 
peon.  It  is  the  game  of  the  masters  and  of  their  allies 
the  priests  to  keep  the  peons  ignorant  savages  the  more 
easily  to  exploit  them.  As  regards  the  free  peons,  the 
masters  are  too  shrewd  to  bid  against  one  another  for 
their  services.  This  would  violate  class  ethics,  just  as 
with  you  it  is  “wrong”  for  one  lady  to  “steal”  the 
domestic  of  another  by  offering  her  more  wages. 


150 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


In  Ecuador  the  peon  has  the  free  use  of  an  acre 
or  two  on  which  he  raises  food  for  his  family. 
Four  days  in  the  week  he  must  put  in  eight  hours 
of  labor  for  his  master,  for  which  he  receives 
about  forty  cents  in  the  lowlands — where  there  is 
chronic  scarcity  of  laborers — and  twenty  cents  in 
the  uplands.  As  there  are  no  stores  within  reach, 
he  takes  his  pay  in  supplies,  furnished  by  the  mas- 
ter always  at  a good  profit,  and  often  at  an  exorbi- 
tant price,  seeing  that  the  peon  is  too  ignorant  to 
know  when  he  is  being  fleeced.  Most  of  them  are 
in  debt  and  their  condition,  as  an  Ecuadorian 
statesman  put  it  to  me,  is  “virtual  slavery.”  It 
is  certainly  worse  than  the  villeinage  of  the  Mid- 
dle Ages,  for  the  debt  may  be  sold  and  with  it  the 
debtor.  Flogging  is  practised  on  some  planta- 
tions and  the  police  will  bring  back  the  peon  who 
has  run  away  from  his  debt.  The  chief  differ- 
ences between  this  concert aje,  as  it  is  called,  and 
chattel  slavery  are  that  the  family  is  left  intact, 
the  concierto  may  not  be  obliged  to  work  more 
than  four  days  in  the  week,  and  he  has  no  claim 
on  his  master  in  sickness  or  old  age. 

Since  1895  the  Liberals  have  been  in  the  saddle 
in  Ecuador  and  they  have  made  some  effort  to 
safeguard  the  interests  of  the  peon.  For  exam- 
ple, the  master’s  account  against  the  peon  does  not 
become  a legal  debt  until  it  is  acknowledged  by 
the  peon  himself  in  the  presence  of  a public  official. 
Once  a year  this  formality  takes  place.  Formerly 
the  day’s  labor  of  an  indebted  peon  wiped  out  only 
five  cents  of  his  debt.  Now  the  law  gives  it  a 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  151 

value  which,  appears  to  be  about  three  quarters 
of  what  the  free  laborer  receives  for  the  same 
work. 

The  business  men  of  Guayaquil  admit  that  con- 
certaje  is  a medieval  institution  but  defend  it  on 
the  ground  that  if  you  cut  the  lariat  of  debt 
slavery  by  which  the  planter  holds  the  peon,  the 
fellow  is  likely  to  decamp,  squat  on  the  wild  land 
of  which  there  is  an  abundance  in  coastal  Ecua- 
dor, and  go  to  raising  food  on  his  own  account. 
This  would  leave  the  cacao  and  sugar  plantations 
without  an  adequate  labor  force  and  might  “ruin” 
the  planter.  The  ghastly  alternative  of  paying 
the  peons  what  their  labor  is  really  worth  the 
planters  cannot  bring  themselves  to  contemplate. 
A heavy  European  immigration,  indeed,  by  pro- 
viding the  planters  with  plenty  of  white  labor, 
would  free  the  peon’s  neck  from  the  noose  of  debt; 
but  so  long  as  the  huge  sign  confronts  the  railway : 
“ Se  necessita  continualmente  peones”  (laborers 
in  constant  demand),  the  planters  will  want  a legal 
hold  on  the  laborer. 

One  planter  wiped  out  all  debts  due  him  from 
peons,  with  the  result  that  his  peons  worked  for 
him  six  days  a week  instead  of  four  and,  having 
cash  to  look  forward  to,  they  worked  better.  He 
advocates  limiting  by  law  the  amount  of  debt  for 
which  the  peon  may  be  obliged  to  labor,  but  still 
he  would  not  abolish  the  system  entirely.  He 
points  out  that  in  bad  seasons  the  peon  would 
starve  without  help  from  his  master  and  his  mas- 
ter will  not  advance  him  supplies  without  some 


152 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


form  of  security.  Others  say,  however,  “Slash 
off  this  manhood-destroying  concertaje  and  let  the 
peon  start  to  learn  the  necessity  of  living  on  his 
cash  earnings  instead  of  relying  on  advances  from 
his  master.  The  sooner  he  starts  the  sooner  he 
will  learn.” 

For  all  its  stucco  front  of  modernism  and  lib- 
eralism, Peru  is  feudal  at  the  core.  On  the  great 
ranches  in  the  plain  north  of  Lake  Titicaca  one 
gains  a peephole  into  the  thirteenth  century.  The 
Indian  herdsman  earns  fifty  cents  a month  for 
every  hundred  head  of  alpacas,  llamas  or  merinos 
he  tends  and  for  every  fifty  head  of  cattle.  If  an 
animal  is  missing,  he  has  to  make  it  good  out  of  his 
wages.  He  has  the  use  of  land  for  his  house  and 
potato  patch  and  pasture  for  his  own  little  flock, 
which  yields  the  wool  from  which  his  family 
clothes  itself.  Altogether  his  income  is  two  or 
three  dollars  a month,  out  of  which  the  master 
must  be  paid  for  the  wheat,  maize,  and  coca 
leaves  he  has  furnished  at  a liberal  profit  to  him- 
self. 

If  an  Indian  landowner  is  so  unfortunate  as  to 
“join  farms”  with  a white  man,  he  must  each 
year  deliver  his  neighbor  a quintal  (100  lbs.)  of 
alpaca  wool  at  a customary  price  of  $8.00.  The 
master  sells  this  quintal  in  Arequipa  for  $22.50. 
The  Indian  must  also  furnish  one  sheep,  worth 
sixty  cents,  for  which  he  is  allowed  twenty  cents. 
Then  too  he  is  to  help  his  white  neighbor  during 
sheep-shearing  and  sheep-killing  without  other 
wages  than  food,  coca  and  rum.  In  case  he  has 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  153 

the  temerity  to  withhold  these  feudal  dues,  the 
herders  of  the  ranchowners  will  slaughter  his  live 
stock  without  mercy  whenever  they  happen  to 
stray  upon  the  white  man’s  land. 

THE  HOOKER  AND  THE  HOOK 

The  mining  companies  in  Peru  recruit  most  of 
their  underground  labor  through  agents  who  go 
about  and  “hook”  ( engancliar ) the  guileless  na- 
tive. The  “hooker”  turns  up  in  a village  some 
weeks  before  the  annual  fiesta  in  honor  of  its 
patron  saint.  On  such  an  occasion  the  Indian  is 
wont  to  “blow”  himself  because  his  entire  emo- 
tional, recreative,  and  social  life  centers  about 
this  fiesta.  "What  with  presents  of  vestments  or 
jewels  to  the  effigy  of  the  saint,  fees  to  the  priest 
for  masses,  and  a feast  for  his  numerous  relatives 
and  friends,  he  is  in  a mood  to  embark  on 
reckless  spending.  Comes  now  the  wheedling 
“hooker”  and  offers  him  from  $30  to  $50 
cash,  provided  only  the  Indian  will  sign  a bond 
to  repay  the  debt  by  labor.  The  Indian  signs  and, 
after  sobering  up  from  the  fiesta,  he  reports  to 
the  “hooker”  and  is  sent  up  to  the  mines  to  dig 
ore  at  perhaps  14,000  feet  above  sea-level.  The 
Cerro  de  Pasco  Mining  Co.  alone  has  4000  natives 
in  its  employ  under  the  enganche  system.  The 
miner  gets,  say,  seventy-five  cents  a day,  of  which 
a third  keeps  him  while  the  rest  is  applied  on  his 
debt.  On  the  average  four  months  of  labor  is 
necessary  to  make  him  a free  man  again.  The 
estates  of  the  montana  region  east  of  the  Andes, 


154 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


as  well  as  those  of  the  Coast,  snare  the  natives  of 
the  highlands  by  this  method. 

Often  the  Indian  signs  the  contract  when  drunk 
and  usually  he  fails  to  realize  where  he  is  to  work 
and  how.  He  thinks  he  is  to  work  for  the 
“hooker,”  whereas  he  may  be  sent  a hundred 
miles  away  to  toil  in  a freezing  mine  gallery  or 
a hot  cane  field.  Buried  far  from  home  in  a coast 
sugar  hacienda  or  a montana  coffee  estate,  the 
poor  fellow  finds  himself  a slave  without  a shred 
of  legal  protection  and  quite  at  the  mercy  of  his 
employer. 

Repeatedly  I was  assured  that  the  laws  of  Peru 
do  not  compel  the  debtor  to  work  off  his  debt,  but, 
to  quote  the  words  of  a foreign  diplomat,  “Lima 
has  no  rule  outside  the  cities.  ’ ’ Peonage  is  fixed 
in  usage,  the  victim  does  not  know  his  legal 
rights  and,  moreover,  the  gobemador  or  sub- 
prefect, who  stands  in  with  the  capitalist  or  the 
“ hooker,’ ’ threatens  imprisonment  if  the  debt  is 
not  repaid.  The  manager  of  the  Cerro  de  Pasco 
Company  reports  a loss  of  $12,500  a year  by  ad- 
vances on  enganche  contracts  and  complains  of 
the  increasing  difficulty  in  inducing  the  “hooked” 
to  “come  up  to  the  scratch”  because  the  Liga  pro 
Indigena  or  Native-Rights  Association,  a Lima 
society  standing  up  for  the  rights  of  the  Indians, 
has  told  him  he  is  not  obliged  to  work  off  his 
debt.  One  wonders  why  the  company  cannot  go 
after  labor  with  a cash  offer  as  we  do  at  home. 
The  manager  replies  that  cash  wages  will  attract 
Indians  for  surface  work  but  that  only  the  “hook” 


Glacier-fed  agriculture  in  the  valley  of  the  Urubamba 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  157 

will  provide  him  with  enough  underground 
workers.  The  Liga  pro  Indigena  stigmatizes  en- 
ganche  as  a device  for  evading  the  payment  of  a 
just  wage  that  would  make  up  to  the  Indian  for 
the  hard  and  health-destroying  labor  in  the  mines. 
The  operators,  however,  insist  that  the  Indian 
lacks  initiative  and  that  no  offer  of  cash  wages 
would  supply  the  mines  with  labor  from  a dis- 
tance. 

In  Bolivia  a farm  is  a finca  and  the  laborer  is 
a pongo.  In  return  for  the  use  of  the  two  to 
four  acres  he  puts  into  barley,  potatoes  or  beans 
for  his  family  the  pongo  works  every  week  two, 
three,  or  four  days  for  his  master.  For  these 
“boon  days”  he  receives  nothing  but  his  ration 
of  coca  leaves,  aguardiente , and,  usually,  but  not 
always,  his  food.  Each  year  the  pongo  gives, 
besides,  an  entire  week  of  unpaid  service  called 
pongueaje.  If  the  master  does  not  need  all  the 
customary  services  of  his  pongos,  he  may  rent  or 
sell  them.  He  takes  a contract  to  build  a section 
of  road  or  a railway  embankment,  has  his  pongos 
do  the  work,  then  pockets  the  proceeds.  Not  only 
does  all  this  yield  him  an  exorbitant  rental  for 
the  plot  the  pongo  uses,  but,  thanks  to  the  igno- 
rance and  timidity  of  the  Indian,  the  master  often 
exacts  from  him  services  and  produce  over  and 
above  the  customary  dues. 

The  master  lives  in  town  and  manages  his  finca 
through  a cholo  foreman.  Under  him  are  trusty 
native  capataces,  or  headmen,  who  carry  a whip 
and  see  that  the  pongos  duly  render  their  custo- 


158 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


mary  services.  The  pongos  are  not  indebted,  nor 
is  debt  slavery  legal  in  Bolivia.  I heard  of  no 
forced  labor  save  in  the  rubber  districts  of  eastern 
Bolivia,  which  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  law. 
Although  the  pongo  is  free  to  leave,  the  lure  of 
mine  or  railway  job  does  not  strip  the  finca  of  its 
labor  force.  The  family  of  the  miner  or  the 
navvy  sticks  to  the  ancestral  plot  and  renders 
service  in  his  place.  Besides,  the  man  always 
returns  at  harvest  time  to  gather  his  own  crop  and 
the  master’s.  The  laboring  population  of  the 
farms  is  so  stable  that  a finca  is  advertised  not 
as  so  many  hectares,  but  as  a place  with  so  many 
‘ ‘ arms,  ’ ’ or,  as  we  should  say,  ‘ ‘ hands.  ’ ’ 

THE  INQUILINO  OF  CHILE 

In  Chile  the  inquilino,  or  contract  laborer,  works 
under  a verbal  agreement  which  gives  him  the 
use  of  a hut,  a plot  or  two  of  from  two  to  six 
acres,  the  aid  of  the  master’s  oxen  in  plowing 
his  plot,  and  pasture  for  a limited  number  of 
animals.  In  return  he  works  for  the  master  for 
the  wage  current  in  the  district  which,  thanks  to 
the  masters’  joint  pressure,  is  certain  to  be  low. 
About  San  Fernando  I found  him  getting  from 
ten  to  eighteen  cents  a day  and  meals,  while  the 
independent  laborer  gets  fifty  cents  a day  in 
summer.  Masters  are  careful  not  to  bid  against 
one  another  and  they  compete  only  in  respect  to 
the  accommodations,  privileges,  etc.,  they  offer. 
At  Chilian  the  inquilino  has  the  use  of  six  acres, 
pasture  for  five  animals  and  wages  of  sixteen 


LABOE,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  159 

cents  a day  with  food.  He  is  to  furnish  300  days 
of  work  a year  at  this  price.  The  free  laborer 
gets  from  twenty  cents  a day  in  winter  up  to  fifty 
cents  in  summer.  As  one  approaches  the  frontier 
the  status  of  the  inquilino  rises  until  finally  all 
that  distinguishes  him  from  free  laborers  is  that 
he  contracts  by  the  year  and  takes  part  of  his  pay 
in  kind. 

The  inquilino  is  free  to  leave  the  estate  but, 
owing  to  his  feudal  attachment  to  the  master’s 
family,  he  tends  to  remain  in  the  hut  of  his  fore- 
fathers, even  when  he  could  better  himself  by 
removing.  Newspapers,  town  influence  and  labor 
agitation  are  undermining  this  attachment,  but  it 
will  take  at  least  a generation  to  make  the  in- 
quilinos  keen  pursuers  of  their  own  interest. 
There  is  no  tenancy,  no  breaking  up  of  big  estates 
and  no  chance  for  an  inquilino  to  become  inde- 
pendent. 

I know  of  no  completer  demonstration  of  the 
dependence  of  the  rate  of  wages  upon  the  demands 
of  the  worker  as  well  as  upon  the  productiveness 
of  his  labor  than  the  fact  that,  although  the  sur- 
plus meat  and  grain  from  Chilean  farms  is  sold  in 
oversea  international  markets  at  the  same  price 
as  the  foodstuffs  exported  from  the  United  States 
and  Canada,  the  laborer  is  paid  not  over  a quarter 
or  a fifth  as  much  as  the  American  farm  hand. 
What  makes  the  difference  is  not  the  low  efficiency 
of  the  Chilean  but  his  low  standard  of  living  and 
want  of  aspirations.  His  master  is  able  to  keep 
the  extra  dollar  a day  that  the  American  farmer 


160 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


would  pay  him  simply  because  the  inquilino  is  con- 
tent with  the  coarse  miserable  life  of  his  servile 
forefathers.  No  wonder  Don  Arturo  fosters  the 
rude  ways  and  the  “good  old  customs”  among 
his  people  and  tries  to  keep  them  far  from  schools, 
newspapers,  town  life,  agitators,  missionaries  and 
everything  else  which  might  raise  their  standards, 
suggest  new  wants,  and  arouse  a desire  to  rise 
in  the  social  order. 

The  servile  features  of  inquilinaje  are  not  quite 
effaced.  Said  one  master,  “If  I go  on  a journey, 
I am  entitled  to  have  any  one  of  my  inquilinos  at- 
tend me  as  my  servant  without  pay.”  The  in- 
quilino is  regarded  as  belonging  to  his  employer. 
Remarked  a landowner  to  me,  ‘ ‘ I should  n ’t  think 
of  accepting  the  inquilino  of  a neighbor  without 
first  speaking  to  him  about  it.”  The  inquilino 
is  liable  to  eviction  at  any  time,  although  he  has 
the  right  to  gather  the  crop  on  his  plot.  For- 
merly the  master  or  the  mayor  domo  treated  the 
pretty  daughter  of  the  inquilino  as  his  legitimate 
prey,  but  this  is  said  to  be  dangerous  nowa- 
days. 

The  ration  of  boiled  beans  provided  for  the 
laborer  is  handed  over  to  him  as  if  to  a dog.  No 
board,  bench  or  dish  is  provided.  Often  the  man 
receives  the  helping  of  beans  on  his  shovel  and 
eats  them  with  a chip.  An  American  told  me  with 
a chuckle  how  he  had  scandalized  his  neighbors 
by  providing  his  four  hundred  inquilinos  with 
table,  benches  and  great  tubs  of  beans  from  which 
each  could  help  himself.  He  finally  had  the  best 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  161 

inquilinos  in  the  district  but  his  neighbors  were 
furious  with  him  for  forcing  the  pace. 

When  he  is  paid  by  the  job  the  Chilean  is  a 
great  hustler,  but  the  customary  wage  paid  on 
the  estate  furnishes  him  no  inducement  to  let 
himself  out.  “Go  easy”  is  the  word.  With  no 
prospect  of  ever  owning  a place  of  their  own  the 
sons  of  the  inquilinos  often  become  wanderers. 
They  drift  to  the  nitrate  fields  of  the  North,  to 
Bolivia,  to  Argentina.  Want  of  a home  makes 
the  laborer  loath  to  assume  family  responsibili- 
ties. He  “takes  up”  with  one  woman  after 
another,  but  the  woman  must  take  care  of  her- 
self and  the  resulting  children  while  the  man 
wanders  on  and  on,  a hard-drinking  vagrant.  A 
cash  tenant  system  with  compensation  for  unex- 
hausted improvements  would  be  a great  boon  to 
Chile.  If  the  capable  inquilino  could  look  for- 
ward to  a home  and  all  he  could  make  off  his 
holding  above  a fixed  rent,  he  would  rise  rapidly 
in  the  social  scale  and  agriculture  would  speedily 
improve.  Now  he  is  without  hope  and  intensive 
agriculture  is  impossible. 

In  Argentina  agricultural  labor  is  as  free  as 
it  is  with  us.  During  the  long  dictatorship  of  the 
cow-boy  hero  Rosas,  1835-1852,  the  laborers  on 
the  estates  shook  off  the  last  fetters  of  feudalism. 
This,  indeed,  is  the  one  society  in  which  I found 
a visible  social  capillarity,  some  laborers  rising 
to  be  tenants  and  some  tenants  becoming  land- 
owners.  Nevertheless,  although  land  has  been  the 
chief  basis  of  economic  opportunity  in  Argentina, 


162 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


her  enormous  public  domain  has  never  been  dis- 
tributed in  a democratic  spirit,  but,  until  lately, 
has  been  alienated  in  such  a way  as  to  foster  great 
estates.  Nothing  but  the  difficulty  of  access  to 
land  can  explain  why  the  Argentine  farmhand 
should  receive  only  half  of  what  is  paid  the  Amer- 
ican farmhand.  Not  only  does  the  fixity  of  eco- 
nomic conditions  set  a great  social  gulf  between 
landowner  and  peon,  but  even  the  renter  will  not 
sit  at  table  with  his  peons.  As  soon  as  a man 
employs  labor,  he  enters  a higher  social  class. 
The  peon  sleeps  in  bam  or  granary  with  his  sad- 
dle blanket  for  bed,  his  poncho  for  coverlet,  and 
his  saddle  for  pillow,  while  his  food  is  passed  out 
to  him  from  the  master’s  kitchen. 

In  the  cane-growing  region  of  Argentina  the 
peons  are  unbelievably  stupid.  “Beside  one  of 
these  peons,”  observed  an  experiment  station 
American,  “the  ordinary  Louisiana  nigger  is  an 
educated  gentleman.  He  doesn’t  think  at  all. 
He  can’t  even  carry  out  an  order  unless  it  is  of 
the  simplest.  If  on  the  other  side  of  the  field 
there  are  three  stakes  you  have  used  in  rowing, 
you  mustn’t  say:  ‘Juan,  see  those  stakes?  Well, 
bring  them  to  me.’  You  ’ve  got  to  proceed  this 
way.  ‘Juan,  see  that  stake?  Bring  it  to  me.’ 
After  he  has  brought  it  you  do  the  same  for  each 
of  the  remaining  stakes.  The  stupidity  of  the 
peon  forbids  the  introduction  here  of  any  com- 
plicated farm  implements..  You  simply  can’t  get 
him  to  walk  behind  the  plow.  He  insists  on  walk- 
ing beside  the  plow  and  guiding  it  with  one  hand. 


LABOB,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  163 

So  s6me  American  manufacturers  are  making  a 
one-handle  plow  and  sending  it  down  here.” 

DISDAIN  OP  LABOR 

Under  the  exploitive  colonial  regime  labor  be- 
came indissolubly  associated  with  servility,  while 
complete  exemption  from  useful  exertion  was  the 
hall  mark  of  the  master  caste.  Again  and  again 
in  their  remonstrances  to  the  King  of  Spain 
against  his  edicts  aiming  to  abolish  or  mitigate 
the  slavery  under  which  the  Indians  groaned,  the 
colonial  masters  inquired,  “Who,  then,  will  till 
the  fields  and  tend  the  cattle?”  “If  we  may  not 
exact  personal  service  from  the  natives,  who  will 
serve  us?”  The  idea  that  they,  might  work  and 
wait  upon  themselves  in  the  house  no  more  oc- 
curred to  them  than  that  they  should  eat  grass 
like  Nebuchadnezzar. 

Thus  became  rooted  the  idea  that  labor  is  vile, 
that  there  must  be  an  upper  caste  to  think  and 
enjoy  and  govern,  and  that  it  must  be  served 
though  the  rest  starve.  The  whole  religion,  so- 
cial philosophy  and  ethics  of  the  colonials  became 
adjusted  to  the  parasitic  maimer  of  life.  The 
separation  from  Spain  a century  ago  and  the 
adoption  of  liberal  institutions  did  not  break  up 
the  old  habits  of  thought.  The  vicious  colonial 
traditions  live  on,  so  that  even  to-day  Spanish- 
America  is  cankered  with  a contempt  for  labor 
which  reveals  itself  in  a hundred  ways. 

No  first-class  passenger  carries  any  hand  lug- 
gage to  or  from  the  railway  coach.  Not  that  he 


164- 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


minds  the  exertion,  but  no  gentleman  dares  be 
caught  doing  anything  tainted  with  utility.  A 
swarm  of  men  and  boys  storm  every  cab  and  car 
and  their  incredulous  amazement  and  disgust  at 
seeing  a gentleman  lug  his  satchels  is  most  divert- 
ing. They  simply  cannot  imagine  he  is  going  to 
carry  them  himself  and  half  a dozen  will  present 
themselves  one  after  another,  each  attributing  the 
discomfiture  of  the  others  to  some  lack  of  obse- 
quiousness. 

No  self-respecting  person  will  appear  in  the 
street  with  a parcel  in  his  hand;  he  always  en- 
gages a boy  to  carry  it.  No  cdballero  will  carry 
his  saddle  between  house  and  corral.  A traveler 
who  blacks  his  shoes  is  as  dirt  in  the  eyes  of  the 
hotel  staff.  In  Quito,  where  the  servile  Indian 
has  left  the  deep  stigma  on  every  form  of  manual 
labor,  the  plazas  are  haunted  with  well-dressed, 
white-collared  neverworks,  some  of  whom  are  fain 
to  dull  their  hunger  with  parched  corn  eaten  from 
the  pocket. 

In  Argentina  the  machinery  expert  setting  up 
American  steam-threshers  who  yields  to  his  im- 
pulse to  doff  his  coat  and  “pitch  in”  may  find 
himself  at  elbows  with  the  peons  in  the  barn  in- 
stead of  sitting  at  the  ranchman’s  table.  So  he 
has  schooled  himself  to  keep  on  his  white  collar, 
shun  overalls  and  stand  about  directing  stupid 
peons,  although  his  fingers  are  twitching  with 
eagerness  to  “take  hold  and  show  them  how.” 

The  German  professor  of  science  in  a colegio 
found  his  pupils  quite  aghast  at  the  idea  of  doing 


Llamas  met  in  the  highway 


Alpacas  in  the  Bolivian  highlands 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  167 

the  experiments  themselves.  They  wanted  to 
watch  the  professor  do  them.  Even  after  he  had 
broken  them  in  to  laboratory  work,  they  held 
themselves  above  the  drudgery  of  it  and  would 
call  for  a mozo.  to  clean  up  the  muss  caused  by  the 
breaking  of  a retort'  or  the  overflow  of  a test  tube. 

Americans  have  the  name  of  being  wonderfully 
“practical,”  so  one  of  the  engineering  schools  in 
Peru  sought  to  have  its  students  in  mining  ac- 
quire some  experience  in  one  of  the  big  mines 
under  American  management.  The  chief  engi- 
neer was  willing  enough,  so  a few  of  them  were 
placed  under  his  direction.  They  lasted  about 
two  days.  The  budding  engineers  firmly  refused 
to  don  overalls,  flounder  about  in  mud  and  water 
and  lay  hands  to  the  greasy  machinery.  Their 
idea  of  a gentleman’s  technical  education  was  to 
stand  by  in  clean  raiment  and  watch  the  machine 
go,  while  a professor  explained  to  them  its  opera- 
tion. 

American  astronomers  have  noticed  how  it 
grates  upon  the  Argentine  assistant  in  the  ob- 
servatory to  care  for  his  instruments,  clean  up 
after  a breakage,  or  unpack  costly  apparatus. 
Confronting  a packing  case  containing  perhaps 
$2000  worth  of  imported  instruments,  his  impulse 
is  to  turn  it  over  to  a peon  worth  fifty  cents  a 
day.  The  star-gazer’s  idea  of  astronomical  ob- 
servation is  to  lie  on  a mattress  with  his  eye  to 
a meridian  telescope  and  call  the  instant  of  transit 
of  a star,  while  one  assistant  adjusts  the  instru- 
ment, another  records  his  readings  and  a third 


168 


SOUTH  OF  panama; 


computes  their  significance.  He  wants  to  coniine 
himself  to  the  purely  mental  process,  which  alone 
comports  with  the  high  dignity  of  science. 

In  Peru  the  ambitious  cholo  apes  the  “decent 
people,’ ’ shuns  real  labor  and  seeks  a light,  clean- 
cuff,  ill-paid  job  rather  than  work  as  carpenter  or 
smith.  He  will  stoop  to  any  parasitism,  accept 
any  lick-spittle  dependence,  in  order  to  avoid 
honest  sweat  and  be  able  to  wear  white  linen, 
swing  a cane,  and  play  the  dandy  on  street  corner 
or  in  church  porch.  In  Chile,  where  the  master 
aim  is  to  “live  at  the  fiscal  teat” — to  use  a local 
phrase — the  poor  flee  useful  labor  at  the  first 
chance.  “My  mozo,”  said  a Valparaiso  physi- 
cian, “who  came  raw  from  the  hacienda  seven 
years  ago,  a mere  ragamuffin  glad  to  carry  a bag 
for  a dime,  is  now  so  uppish  that  he  won’t  be 
caught  in  the  street  with  a parcel  in  his  hand, 
let  alone  carrying  a box  on  his  shoulder.” 

Not  only  manual  labor  but  any  kind  of  strenu- 
ous exertion  is  regarded  as  something  for  the 
lower  orders.  Until  the  German  military  com- 
mission came  out  to  Bolivia  about  five  years  ago 
and  smartened  up  the  young  officers  till  they  be- 
came social  pets,  army  service  was  looked  down  on 
by  the  youth  of  good  families  there  as  too  much  like 
work.  The  evening  of  the  reception  to  Colonel 
Roosevelt  on  Santa  Lucia  Hill  in  Santiago  I was 
talking  with  a Conservative  senator  about  the 
Boy  Scouts,  of  whom  I had  seen  1500  reviewed 
the  day  before.  Don  Jose  was  patronizing. 
“They  are  all  boys  of  the  poorer  classes,”  said 


LABOB,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  169 

he,  “and  I think  it  is  rather  a good  thing  for  the 
children  of  the  poor.  Of  course  the  movement 
does  not  extend  to  the  children  of  the  higher 
social  classes.’ ’ 

DEMAND  FOR  MENIAL  SERVICE 

The  traditions  from  a parasitic  upper  class 
cause  the  South  Americans  to  require  much  need- 
less personal  service.  The  lady  of  the  house  is 
very  loath  to  answer  the  door-bell.  Waiting  in 
the  vestibule  of  a residence,  how  often  have  I 
heard  the  mistress  or  her  daughter  scurry  in 
quest  of  an  Indian  servant  to  open  the  door ! In 
Peru,  when  a lady  appears  in  the  street,  she  is  at- 
tended at  a respectful  distance  by  a small  servant 
carrying  her  umbrella.  At  Cuzco  the  Peruvian 
ladies  were  at  first  rather  taken  with  the  accom- 
plishments and  self-sacrifice  of  the  cultivated' 
ladies  of  the  mission  hospital.  But  presently  it 
became  known  that  at  times  these  English  ladies 
could  be  seen  openly  plying  broom  and  dustcloth 
about  the  mission.  This  damned  them  socially. 
The  high-toned  families  inferred  these  gentle- 
women “must  have  been  cholas  in  their  own 
country,”  and  ostracized  them. 

In  Chile  a lady  will  ring  for  her  maid  to  put 
on  her  slippers  or  to  hand  her  something  in  the 
room.  No  matter  how  late  master  and  mistress 
remain  out,  the  servants  must  stay  up  for  them. 
I heard  of  a lady  who  routed  out  her  servants  at 
one  o’clock  a.  m.  and  berated  them  for  presuming 
to  go  to  bed.  The  foreigner  who  waits  upon  him- 


170 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


self  is  despised  by  the  servants  and  is  not  served 
so  well  as  the  exacting  Chilean. 

Happily  the  young  South  Americans  appreciate 
our  democratic  feeling  about  service,  once  the 
vicious  tradition  is  broken.  The  Young  Men’s 
Christian  Association  of  Buenos  Aires  shocked 
its  Latin  members  when  it  installed  a “help-your- 
self”  restaurant  in  its  basement;  but  presently 
they  "came  round.”  In  the  Association  summer 
camp  amid  the  Uruguay  hills  not  a servant  was 
about,  for  the  members  of  the  party  took  turns 
in  serving  at  table.  The  young  South  Americans 
soon  caught  the  spirit  and  some  who  at  first  had 
nursed  their  dignity  later  insisted  on  serving. 
The  American  rector  of  the  University  of  Cuzco, 
in  numerous  archeological  excursions  with  his 
students,  induced  them  by  his  example  to  care  for 
their  animals,  make  camp  and  cook  their  meals. 
Once  the  spell  was  broken,  they  took  their  tasks 
gaily  and  became  just  as  self-reliant  as  young 
Americans. 


THE  ARISTOCRATIC  TEMPER 

“The  whole  Peruvian  people  is  aristocratic,” 
observed  a Lima  publicist, — “the  whites  from 
conquistador  traditions  and  the  Indians  from 
their  recollections  of  the  Inca  regime.  Spanish 
pride  and  Inca  pride  combine  to  produce  a people 
aristocratic  to  the  backbone.”  Certainly  I have 
never  beheld  such  port  and  glance  of  pride  as 
one  sees  in  the  ladies  attending  mass  in  fashion- 
able San  Pedro  in  Lima.  On  these  handsome, 


LABOR,  CLASS  AND  CASTE  171 

well-chiseled  faces,  marbly  with  the  pallor  of  the 
tropics,  sate  enthroned  the  unshakable  convic- 
tion of  superiority.  Their  look  said,  “Whatever 
be  the  fate  of  others,  we  must  be  provided  for.” 
The  Government  does,  indeed,  make  desperate 
efforts  to  provide  for  the  decaying  families  of 
the  higher  class  by  maintaining  for  their  male 
members  a great  number  of  useless  government 
jobs. 

A missionary  remarks  that  when  a well  dressed 
woman  enters  a street  car  in  Guayaquil  every 
gentleman  in  the  car  will  rise  and  with  elaborate 
politeness  offer  her  his  seat,  even  though  there  are 
vacant  seats  in  the  car.  But  in  a crowded  car  he 
will  not  even  move  in  order  to  make  place  for  a 
woman  of  the  people.  It  is  not  the  woman  or  the 
mother  that  is  the  object  of  Ecuadoran  chivalry, 
but  the  lady. 

In  Santiago  the  fares  for  the  roof  seats  of  the 
street  cars  are  less  than  for  places  below.  This 
has  made  the  top  of  the  car  so  disreputable  that, 
although  the  passenger  there  has  more  air  and  sees 
more,  no  one  with  a shred  of  self-respect  will  ride 
on  the  roof  in  broad  daylight.  I was  much 
amused  at  the  nervousness  of  friends  who  went 
aloft  with  me  in  order  to  show  me  the  city. 

Not  merit  but  caste  determines  social  considera- 
tion. When  an  American  organized  a football 
team  among  Cuzco  lads,  he  found  that  the  son  of 
the  blacksmith  was  liable  to  be  roundly  scolded 
for  tackling  hard  the  son  of  a gentleman.  “How 
dare  you  knock  over  your  patron!”  the  other  boya 


172 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


would  exclaim.  In  Bolivia,  on  the  other  hand, 
appearances  seem  to  count  for  more  than  caste. 
In  a private  house  with  a stately  reception  room, 
the  kitchen  may  be  vile,  for  no  caller  will  see  the 
kitchen.  An  American  was  called  on  by  a man 
in  frock  coat  and  silk  hat  who,  when  he  sat  down, 
disclosed  a complete  absence  of  socks.  In  La 
Paz  fashionable  attire  is  so  essential  that  the 
missionaries  have  to  acquire  silk  hats  in  order 
to  receive  any  social  consideration  whatever. 
The  Chileans,  too,  are  said  to  love  show  and  to  go 
in  for  the  fagade  type  of  life  rather  than  for 
solid  values.  They  will  spend  on  plaster  orna- 
ment for  the  outside  of  a house  what  an  American 
would  prefer  to  put  into  closets  and  plumbing. 
Many  of  the  very  beautiful  and  pretentious  man- 
sions of  Santiago  are  found  by  the  visitor  to  be 
lacking  in  conveniences  and  comfort. 


CHAPTER  VII 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 

IN  South  America  the  position  of  woman  re- 
flects not  only  the  South-European  or  Latin 
tradition,  which  is  less  liberal  than  the  Celtic- 
Teutonic  tradition,  but  as  well  that  imperious 
Oriental  male  jealousy  which  the  Spaniards  seem 
to  have  caught  from  the  Moors. 

From  the  first,  Spanish  America  was  a theater 
of  male  domination.  "Women  had  only  such  lib- 
erty of  thought  and  action  as  collective  male  opin- 
ion approved,  and  this  strict  tutelage  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  in  the  least  mitigated  by  the 
wresting  of  independence  from  Spain  or  by  the 
subsequent  gradual  recognition  of  the  rights  of 
the  individual  as  against  government  and  church. 
The  struggle  with  the  governors  to  make  the 
people  servants  rather  than  masters  had  scarcely 
perceptible  effect  upon  the  domination  of  the 
one  sex  over  the  other,  nor  did  it  lighten  the 
pressure  of  male-guided  social  opinion  upon  the 
individual  woman.  Just  as  in  our  own  country 
the  woman’s  movement  owes  little  to  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution  or  to  the  democratic  advance  under 
Jefferson  and  Jackson,  but  is  chiefly  a thing  of  the 
last  seventy  years,  so  among  our  neighbors  to  the 
south  the  thirst  for  liberty  from  king  and  govern- 

173 


174 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


ment  does  not  appear  to  have  made  women  de- 
mand more  liberty  or  men  grant  more. 

In  Ecuador  and  Pern  the  presence  of  three 
social  strata,  the  “decent  people”  ( gente  de - 
cente),  the  cholos,  and  the  Indians,  makes  the  re- 
lation between  the  sexes  various.  For  each  of  the 
strata  the  relation  is  different  and,  besides,  there 
is  the  important  relation  of  the  males  of  the  upper 
class  to  the  cholas. 

INDIAN  MEN  AND  WOMEN 

Observers  find  no  tinge  of  romance  in  the  sex- 
relations  of  the  natives.  To  the  Indian  a woman 
is  just  a female  and  he  will  not  work  himself  into 
a tragic  mood  over  the  winning  of  a particular 
woman.  He  rarely  shows  jealousy  and  not  often 
do  Indians  fight  over  a woman.  The  young 
people  enter  into  relations  early  and,  after  the  old 
manner  of  the  country  folk  in  Europe,  do  not 
marry  until  they  have  “proved”  each  other.  The 
Indians  have  their  love  affairs,  but  they  take  care 
to  be  “off  with  the  old  love”  before  they  are  “on 
with  the  new.”  At  the  Cerro  de  Pasco  mines  a 
woman  “takes  up”  with  a man  and  so  long  as  she 
lives  with  him  she  will  be  true  to  him.  There  is 
no  promiscuity  nor  wall  the  Indian  women  sell 
themselves  for  money.  One  never  hears  of  them 
ogling  or  luring  the  whites  as  the  negresses  of 
the  Coast  are  apt  to  do.  The  very  woman  who 
will  enter  into  casual  relations  with  an  Indian 
will  reject  indignantly  the  advances  of  a white 
man  on  the  ground  that  she  is  beneath  him  in 


\\  ocden  railroad  from  Laguna  Fria  to  Lake  Nahuel  lluapi,  Argentina 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


177 


caste.  In  general  the  sex-conduct  of  the  Indians 
seems  to  be  regulated  by  certain  primitive  but 
strict  standards  well  fixed  in  their  public  opinion. 

After  the  church  has  blessed  their  union  the 
Indian  couple  are  faithful  to  each  other  through 
life.  Said  a La  Paz  missionary:  “The  Indians 
are  the  most  moral  element  in  Bolivia.  ’ ’ Children 
come  close  together — about  one  a year — and  the 
loss  from  superstition,  ignorance  and  neglect  is 
appalling.  For  example,  the  mother  will  give 
pisco  even  to  the  babe  at  her  breast,  so  that  the  in- 
fant of  two  years  may  be  a confirmed  alcoholic! 
Children  are  too  many  to  have  much  individual 
value,  so  the  child  lacks  in  care. 

Over  the  body  of  their  dead  child  the  parents 
make  a great  wake,  but  still  they  grieve  little,  for 
the  priest  has  assured  them  their  baby  is  in 
Heaven  and  the  mother  is  rather  proud  of  her 
angelito.  They  find  life  bitter  and  think  the 
luckiest  of  their  children  are  those  who  die  in  in- 
fancy. 

Both  men  and  women  love  to  drown  care  in 
chicha  or  pisco.  On  Sundays  they  will  drink  to  in- 
toxication but  the  more  canny  couples  are  careful 
not  to  go  on  a spree  at  the  same  time.  Husband 
and  wife  take  turns  in  getting  drunk  so  that  the 
sober  one  may  see  the  other  safely  home.  In  the 
later  stages  of  their  eight-day  fiestas  the  Indians 
are  quite  too  drunk  to  know  what  they  are  doing. 
To  the  resulting  incest  some  observers  attribute 
no  small  part  of  the  physical  degeneration  of  the 
natives.  It  is  significant  that  the  results  of  chin- 


178 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


ning,  jumping  and  running  tests  on  1500  Lima 
school  children  give  the  following  figures  for  com- 
parative race  performance : negroes  50,  whites  35, 
cholos  28,  Indians  14. 

GUARDED  GIRLS 

The  upper  social  class  has  very  strict  standards 
for  its  women  folk  and  will  go  to  any  trouble  in 
order  to  realize  them.  Indeed,  the  essential  thing 
that  lifts  the  “decent  people”  above  the  cholos, 
both  in  their  own  eyes  and  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  is  not  riches  or  education  or  purity  of  race 
• — although  these  have  their  value — but  the  living 
up  to  certain  standards.  These  standards  relate 
to  occupations,  which  are  finely  discriminated  in 
respect  to  reputability,  to  the  forms  of  social  in- 
tercourse, to  attire  and  manners,  to  modes  of 
entertainment,  and,  above  all,  to  the  conduct  of 
wives  and  daughters. 

The  daughters  of  the  people  run  about  pretty 
promiscuously  with  the  lads,  with  results  which 
careful  parents  wish  to  avoid,  so  in  the  more  self- 
respecting  families  the  daughter  is  guarded  with 
the  utmost  care.  Never  until  her  marriage  is  she 
permitted  to  spend  one  moment  alone  with  a man, 
not  even  her  betrothed.  An  invitation  out  ac- 
cepted by  a young  lady  is  always  held  to  include 
some  older  member  of  her  family.  At  an  Ecua- 
dor ball  the  men  sit  on  one  side,  the  women  on 
the  other.  A girl  may  feel  flattered  if  a bold 
young  foreigner  crosses  over  in  order  to  sit  down 
beside  her  and  converse,  but  she  will  be  dread- 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


179 


fully  uneasy  thinking  of  what  people  may  say. 
In  Guayaquil  it  was  cited  as  a proof  of  freer 
customs  that  whereas  formerly  only  a parent  or 
a married  sister  might  chaperon  a girl,  now  her 
brother  or  unmarried  sister  is  sufficient  safeguard. 
In  Arequipa  the  motion  picture  show  is  emanci- 
pating the  girls,  seeing  that  now  they  are  per- 
mitted to  attend  the  cine  in  company  with  their 
sisters  or  cousins. 

The  mothers  have  great  faith  in  the  honor  of 
North  American  young  men  and  will  allow  them 
a freedom  of  association  with  their  daughters 
they  would  never  dream  of  extending  to  the  na- 
tive-born youths.  In  general  their  lynx-eyed 
surveillance  is  no  senseless  custom  but  is  alto- 
gether justified  by  the  predatory  spirit  of  the 
South  American  male.  Bred  to  regard  the  other 
sex  as  fair  game  the  young  men  are  rarely  worthy 
of  confidence.  Most  fathers  have  no  chivalrous 
respect  for  women  to  impart  to  their  sons,  and 
even  when  they  strive  to  bring  up  their  sons  to 
this  attitude  they  get  no  such  support  from 
school  and  church  and  general  opinion  as  do 
American  fathers. 

The  unprotectedness  of  girls  under  masculine 
dominance  is  well  brought  out  in  an  incident  told 
me  by  a steamship  captain.  An  Ecuador  father 
brought  aboard  his  two  daughters  destined  for 
a port  two  days  up  the  coast.  Since  he  could  not 
accompany  them,  he  locked  them  in  their  cabin, 
gave  them  the  key  and  forbade  them  to  let  them- 
selves out  during  the  voyage.  Having  made  his 


180 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


own  daughters  safe  from  other  fathers  the  worthy 
paterfamilias  thereupon  prowled  about  the  ship 
before  leaving  it  to  see  if  he  might  not  perchance 
find  some  other  man’s  daughter  to  ensnare. 
Such  is  the  state  of  morals  when  women  have 
no  share  in  making  public  opinion,  or  law,  or 
moral  standards.  The  only  male  protectors  of 
a pretty  girl  are  her  father,  uncle  and  brother 
and  these  are  eager  to  pick  the  lock  that  secures 
some  one  else’s  daughter,  niece,  or  sister. 

A Kentucky  girl  engaged  in  social  work  in 
Buenos  Aires  said  she  had  found  far  less  respect 
for  women  there  than  in  New  York.  At  home 
she  had  always  felt  that,  if  annoyed,  she  could 
“bank  on”  the  average  man  in  the  street,  but  she 
did  not  feel  so  in  the  Argentine  capital.  In 
streets  and  public  places  stares  and  odious 
attentions  follow  the  unattended  good-looking 
young  woman.  She  had  known  a man  with  a 
family  of  ten  children  to  insult  modest  women 
on  the  street.  “Still,”  she  added  earnestly,  “I 
have  met  with  the  most  beautiful  and  consid- 
erate treatment  from  some  Argentine  men.”  It 
is  the  existence  of  this  sort  of  men  that  gives 
one  faith  in  the  moral  future  of  the  Argentine 
people.  In  time  this  elite  will  gain  the  leverage 
to  impose  their  standard  upon  all  would-be-re- 
spectable people  and  the  street  oglers  will  be 
despised.  It  is  encouraging  that  a chival- 
rous Minister  of  the  Interior  a few  years  ago  be- 
gan to  discourage  the  convicted  Buenos  Aires 
“masher”  with  a 50-peso  fine.  He  was  laughed 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY  181 

at  at  first ; but  it  has  been  retained  and  will  never 
be  given  up.  It  is  a stake  driven. 

In  Cali  there  is  no  meeting  of  young  people 
save  at  very  rare  picnics,  or  at  one  or  two  big 
balls,  given  every  year  by  certain  clubs.  As  such 
opportunities  are  entirely  insufficient  there  is 
nothing  for  the  young  man  to  do  but  dangle.  In 
every  girl’s  thoughts  the  two  supreme  things  are 
dress  and  the  novio.  The  novio  is  the  youth  who 
follows  her  in  the  street,  waylays  her  in  the  church 
porch,  shadows  her  in  the  plaza  and  gazes  ar- 
dently when  she  appears  on  her  balcony.  Not  a 
word  can  be  exchanged  till  the  young  man  calls 
and  is  received  by  the  family,  and  this  is  virtually 
a declaration  of  serious  intentions.  Thus  the  in- 
nocent experimental  approaches  and  friendships 
by  which  our  young  people  test  their  likings  are 
confined  to  glances.  No  opportunity  for  conver- 
sation until  matters  are  as  good  as  settled. 

In  Chile  the  smitten  young  man  “does  the  pea- 
cock” before  the  windows  of  his  inamorata, 
i.  e.,  promenades  up  and  down  on  successive  days 
looking  for  some  eye-shot  of  encouragement.  If 
she  responds  and  her  parents  have  satisfied  them- 
selves he  is  eligible,  he  will  be  invited  in.  There 
is  no  opportunity  for  the  young  people  to  become 
acquainted  before  the  courtship  has  entered  upon 
the  formal  stage. 

Another  social  institution  is  the  parade  on  the 
plaza  in  the  evening  while  the  band  plays.  The 
girls  with  their  chaperons  circulate  about  the 
plaza  in  one  direction,  the  young  fellows  stroll  in 


182 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  reverse  direction  and  Cupid  has  a chance.  It 
is  needless  to  point  out  that  without  opportunity 
of  speech  the  young  people  become  marvelously 
skilled  in  the  language  of  the  eyes.  What  a 
senorita  looking  over  the  edge  of  a fan  can  ex- 
press with  her  dark  eyes  would  rouse  a poet  from 
the  dead. 

A charming  young  matron  of  the  Santiago  elite, 
who  had  lived  in  Germany,  assured  me  that  the 
domestic  position  of  the  Chilean  woman  is  much 
higher  than  that  of  the  German  woman.  The 
mother  has  the  say  as  to  the  education  of  the 
children  and  it  is  the  mother,  not  the  father,  who 
disposes  of  the  hand  of  the  daughter.  In  the  ex- 
clusive social  circle  she  moved  in  she  had  never 
known  a girl  to  be  coerced  into  a marriage  and 
in  only  one  instance  had  the  parents  come  be- 
tween their  daughter  and  the  man  of  her  choice. 
Still  the  “marriage  of  convenience”  is  by  no 
means  unknown  and  I was  told  of  one  Chilean 
lady  who,  at  the  age  of  sixteen,  on  disembarking  at 
Valparaiso,  home  from  her  schooling  in  Europe, 
was  presented  to  the  man,  fourteen  years  older 
than  herself,  to  whom  her  parents  had  promised 
her.  Now  she  proposes  to  marry  her  daughter 
in  the  same  high-handed  way.  She  justifies  her- 
self saying,  “Let  her  learn  to  be  happy  as  I had 
to.” 

After  making  due  allowance  for  the  marvelous 
adaptability  of  young  brides,  close  observers  still 
consider  that  under  this  system  unhappy  unions 
are  more  numerous  than  they  are  with  us.  The 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


183 


lack  of  association  between  young  men  and  women, 
between  even  the  betrothed,  often  delays  until  it 
is  too  late  the  discovery  of  incompatibilities  which 
under  our  freer  customs  are  fortunately  perceived 
in  time. 

UPPER-CLASS  WOMEN  CLEVEKEK  THAN  THEIR  MEN 

I was  surprised  and  for  a time  much  puzzled 
by  the  remark,  made  both  by  observant  foreigners 
and  by  philosophical  South  Americans  such  as  ex- 
President  Andrade  of  Venezuela,  that  in  the 
higher  classes  of  tropical  South  America  the 
women  are  distinctly  brighter  than  the  men. 
They  are  of  course  less  schooled,  but  in  intellec- 
tual grasp  and  quickness  of  comprehension  they 
were  rated  higher  by  all  with  whom  I talked  save 
one.  Nobody  had  an  explanation  to  offer,  but  this 
agreement  of  so  many  independent  observers 
from  Guayaquil  to  La  Paz  convinced  me  that  I 
was  in  the  solemn  presence  of  a fact.  The  clue  of 
a reasonable  explanation  was  given  me  by  the  com- 
ment of  the  German  principal  of  a renowned 
boys’  school  in  Peru.  “Up  to  the  age  of  four- 
teen,” he  said,  “the  average  boy  here  is  just  as 
bright  as  the  German  boy.  But  at  about  this  age 
the  boys  all  enter  into  relations  with  the  female 
servants,  the  Indiangita  or  the  always  available 
chola,  with  the  result  that  about  the  sixteenth  or 
seventeenth  year  there  is  a marked  mental  arrest 
due  to  sexual  indulgence  while  the  organism  is  im- 
mature. Boys  who  were  very  bright  in  their 
school-work  become  quite  stupid.” 


184 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Thereupon  it  occurred  to  me  that  if  the 
daughters  of  good  families  are  kept  pure  until 
marriage,  while  their  brothers  enter  upon  an  un- 
regulated sex  life  soon  after  puberty,  we  have  here 
a possible  cause  of  the  greater  cleverness  of  the 
women.  That  in  Chile  and  Argentina  no  one  finds 
the  women  brighter  than  the  men  may  be  owing 
to  the  fact  that  in  sex  experience  the  lads  of 
these  countries  appear  to  be  less  precocious  by 
from  two  to  four  years  than  those  of  the  tropics. 
I submitted  this  hypothesis  to  a number  of 
scholars  and  educators  and  not  one  demurred. 

There  are  other  observations  which  seem  to 
corroborate  it.  “Outside  of  Chile  and  Argen- 
tina,” remarked  a diplomat,  “the  whole  of  South 
America  suffers  from  brain  anemia.  I don’t 
know  why  but  the  fact  is  there.”  A cross-country 
globe  trotter  fresh  from  many  an  interview  with 
gobernadors  and  prefects  said  to  me  in  Cuzco, 
‘ ‘ There ’s  something  fuzzy  about  the  mind  of  the 
average  Peruvian  official.  He  ’ll  make  an  inquiry 
and  while  you  ’re  replying  his  attention  wanders, 
coming  back  with  a visible  start  when  you  prod 
him  with  a question.  Even  when  he  is  talking 
the  thread  of  his  thought  seems  to  slip  at  moments 
from  his  grasp.  I ’ve  often  wondered  what  his 
mind  flies  off  to  and  my  guess  is,  it ’s  women.’* 
Then  there  is  the  testimony  of  a mining  man.  4 ‘ 1 
miss  in  the  men  here  the  steady  concentrated  ab 
tention  and  the  quick  anticipation  of  your  idea 
you  find  in  the  American  business  man.  In  this 
city  not  one  successful  merchant  is  Peruvian;  he 


Indian  and  Incaic  wall,  t.uzco,  Peru  Native  woman,  Puno,  Peru 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


187 


will  be  Spaniard,  Italian  or  Syrian.”  “Have  you 
noticed,”  asked  a business  man,  “that  five  foreign 
bouses,  namely,  the  Cerro  de  Pasco  Mining  Co., 
the  Peruvian  Corporation,  Duncan  Fox  and  Co., 
W.  R.  Grace  and  Co.,  and  Backus,  Johnson,  and 
Co.,  are  behind  about  all  the  modern  undertak- 
ings in  Peru?” 

Now  the  mental  keenness  of  the  school  children, 
the  women,  and  the  men  of  the  few  families  which 
have  been  strict  in  the  rearing  of  their  sons  for- 
bids us  to  charge  this  “fuzziness”  to  race  weak- 
ness. The  literary  and  scientific  productiveness 
of  the  many  able  foreigners  who  have  made  their 
home  in  these  equatorial  countries  forbids  us  to 
charge  it  to  climate.  So  that  it  may  indeed  be 
the  consequence  of  over-early  access  to  females 
of  a low  social  caste.  If  so  what  a confirmation 
of  the  saying,  “If  you  put  a chain  about  the 
neck  of  another  human  being,  you  fasten  the 
other  end  of  the  chain  about  your  own  neck.” 

WHY  WOMEN  SHOW  MOEE  CHAKACTER  THAN  MEN 

Surprising  again  was  the  unanimous  testimony 
on  the  West  Coast  that  the  women  have  more 
character  than  the  men.  “Much  more  moral  and 
decent  than  the  men,”  was  the  judgment  of  a 
steamship  agent  at  Bahia.  “At  all  social  levels,” 
said  a minister  at  Quito,  “the  women  are  better. 
The  men  tend  to  be  drinkers,  gamblers  and  spend- 
thrifts.” Said  another  minister,  “The  women 
here  are  as  good  as  you  will  find  in  any  country 
in  the  world, — much  more  upright  in  character 


188 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


than  the  men.”  The  chief  sociologist  of  Bolivia 
declares  that  the  chola  is  superior  to  the  cholo, 
who  is  drunken  and  dissipated,  while  its  leading 
American  educator  notes  that  the  men  of  the 
cholo  caste  are  apt  to  be  unreliable  and  lazy 
while  the  women  keep  the  small  shops  and  are 
thrifty. 

None  averred  that  the  Indian  women  have  more 
character  than  their  men  folk.  The  assertion  re- 
lated usually  to  the  mestizo  common  people  of 
the  towns,  the  obscure  black-and-tan  mass.  I 
was  puzzled  until  I learned  that  from  a third  to 
a half  of  these  people  have  been  brought  up 
single-handed  by  an  unmarried  mother.  Even  in 
the  case  of  the  married  the  father,  owing  to  his 
interest  in  other  women,  often  runs  loose  and 
plays  but  a minor  role  in  the  life  of  the  family; 
so  that,  in  general,  fathers  are  of  little  help  in 
bringing  up  the  children.  Now,  the  mother  with 
no  yoke  fellow  at  her  side  to  share  the  responsi- 
bility of  training  the  children,  forms  their  charac- 
ters as  best  she  can,  but  she  succeeds  better  with 
her  daughters  than  with  her  sons.  She  can  make 
the  girls  pattern  after  her,  but  it  is  not  so  simple 
to  mold  the  hoy  aright.  Besides,  the  boy  early 
realizes  that  his  mother  is  of  an  inferior  sex,  so 
that  from  the  beginning  of  adolescence  he  gets 
quite  beyond  her  control. 

In  the  absence  of  paternal  authority  such  as 
you  find  exercised  in  China  or  Germany,  the  as- 
cendancy of  masculine  opinion,  charged  as  it  is 
with  the  sense  of  the  superiority  of  the  one  sex 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


189 


over  the  other,  has  everywhere  a most  disastrous 
effect  on  the  character  of  the  adolescent  male. 
The  Japanese  town  youth  from  the  time  he  is 
fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age,  until  military  train- 
ing has  cut  the  comb  of  his  self-conceit,  is  a cocky 
insupportable  cub  sorely  in  need  of  the  “swift 
kick”  one  of  my  consular  friends  used  to  yearn  to 
plant  upon  his  person.  It  is  much  the  same  with 
the  youth  of  the  West  Coast  towns.  Missing  the 
firm  hand  of  a father  and  despising  his  mother 
for  her  sex  he  easily  develops  into  a vicious  loafer 
supported  by  some  woman  at  distaff,  washboard, 
or  counter. 

In  general  the  family  discipline  is  looser  than 
we  approve.  This  is  why  the  Ecuadorian  “never 
willingly  recognizes  authority  or  lets  himself  be 
commanded.”  “In  Peruvian  families,”  re- 
marked a Lima  sociologist,  “the  child  is  allowed 
to  do  what  it  pleases  and  is  not  under  family  law. 
How  often  have  I seen  children  insist  on  staying 
up  until  they  fell  asleep  in  the  chair  from  sheer 
weariness.”  An  Arequipa  headmaster  com- 
plained that  parents  take  no  hand  in  the  educa- 
tion of  their  children  but  leave  it  all  to  the  colegio. 
“The  parents  tell  us  to  punish  the  children  if 
they  neglect  their  studies  but  will  not  apply  pres- 
sure themselves.  Since  they  will  not  require  their 
children  to  study  at  home,  we  have  to  see  that 
the  work  is  done  at  the  colegio  during  study  hours 
under  the  master’s  eye.”  “The  children  of  the 
common  Chileans  do  what  they  like  and  govern 
the  home,”  said  a German  philosopher  in  Val- 


190  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

divia.  “The  parents  don’t  know  how  to  make 
them  mind.” 

In  Bolivia  an  American  school  principal  ob- 
served that,  with  the  exception  of  a few  better- 
class  families,  parents  do  not  give  close  attention 
to  the  training  of  their  children.  The  boys  come 
to  him  quite  lacking  in  self-control.  Said  another, 
the  head-master  of  a famous  boys’  school:  “When 
the  boy  first  comes  to  us  we  have  to  watch  him 
closely,  for  in  a fit  of  temper  he  will,  like  as  not, 
hurl  a stone  at  the  head  of  another  boy.  Three 
or  four  months  of  our  firm  discipline  generally 
enables  him  to  bring  his  temper  under  control.” 

Now,  this  home  laxity  may  account  for  the  fact 
that  among  the  cholos  of  Bolivia  the  coleron  or 
“great  choler”  is  a recognized  cause  of  death, 
especially  among  the  women.  In  such  a fit  of 
temper  a mother  will  beat,  kick  or  jump  up  and 
down  upon  her  own  child.  Two  quarreling 
women  will  burst  into  perspiration,  foam  at  the 
mouth  and  become  so  exhausted  by  their  rabia 
that  they  will  take  to  bed  for  a fortnight.  If  a 
mother  suckles  her  infant  soon  after  such  a rage 
it  will  die  within  three  or  four  hours.  Some  at- 
tribute these  rabias  to  the  altitude — 10,000  to 
12,000  feet — but  one  finds  just  the  same  thing  in 
China.  I attribute  it  in  both  cases  to  want  of 
early  discipline  due  to  the  fact  that  young  utterly 
ignorant  mothers,  married  as  green  girls  without 
knowledge  of  life,  are  rearing  children  with  no 
idea  of  the  importance  of  controlling  them  for 
their  own  good. 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


191 


NEGLECT  OF  HOUSEKEEPING 

In  the  tropical  countries  the  abundance  of  cheap 
and  inefficient  servants  coupled  with  the  inherited 
stigma  on  labor  makes  for  wretched  housekeeping. 
The  lady  of  the  house  considers  it  beneath  her 
dignity  to  concern  herself  with  household  econ- 
omy. Buying  and  cooking  are  left  to  some 
dirty  Indian  crone  and  the  food  of  a refined  fam- 
ily may  come  out  of  a grimy  hole  of  a kitchen  into 
which  the  mistress  never  glances.  It  has  not  been 
long  since  the  butter  served  in  the  principal  hotel 
of  Quito  was  made  by  an  Indian  woman  sticking 
her  arm  up  to  the  shoulder  into  a tub  of  milk  and 
churning  it  about  till  the  butter  came.  The  aver- 
age wife  does  not  know  how  to  make  a home  and 
has  no  housekeeping  art  to  pass  on  to  her  daugh- 
ters. Girls  are  taught  music  and  drawing  but  not 
cooking  and  sewing.  I was  told  of  an  Arequipa 
man  with  a wife  and  five  grown-up  daughters  who 
wdien  the  cook  fell  ill  had  to  take  his  family  to  the 
hotel  to  dine,  for  none  of  them  know  how  to  pre- 
pare a meal.  In  the  sick  room  the  women  are 
quite  as  helpless  as  in  the  kitchen.  All  this  indo- 
lence is  from  a paralyzing  social  tradition,  not 
from  race.  “In  town  the  women  are  do-noth- 
ings,” said  a Cuzco  woman  missionary,  “but  on 
the  farms  where  there  is  nobody  to  see  them  work, 
they  are  very  industrious.”  In  Bolivia  going  to 
church  once  took  precedence  over  caring  for  the 
home  and  a lady  would  leave  her  house  in  dis- 
order in  order  to  attend  mass.  Thanks,  however, 


192 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


to  the  better  schooling  of  girls,  the  numbers  of 
women  who  can  make  homes  is  very  noticeably  on 
the  increase. 

woman's  sphere. 

When  masculine  opinion  rules,  the  streets, 
plazas,  public  vehicles,  public  places,  such  as  ho- 
tels, restaurants,  and  theaters,  and  the  more  pre- 
tentious parts  of  the  house  belong  to  men ; women 
without  escort  are  safe  only  at  church,  in  man- 
teau,  going  to  or  from  church,  or  in  the  penetralia 
of  the  home.  In  Panama  every  attractive  fe- 
male without  a visible  protector  is  pursued,  even 
American  girls  on  their  way  to  school.  In  the 
cities  of  Colombia  women  travel  very  little.  No 
girl  can  appear  unattended  on  the  street  with- 
out being  insulted  by  young  men  of  her  own  class. 
In  hotels  the  dining-room  is  for  men.  Save  in  the 
few  hotels  with  a special  dining  salon  the  lady  has 
her  meals  sent  to  her  room.  A colporteur  ob- 
serves that  when  he  is  entertained  at  a house  the 
women  never  sit  at  table,  and  surmises  that  the 
women  do  not  take  their  meals  with  their  own  men 
folk  hut  eat  apart  in  the  kitchen.  On  the  passen- 
ger boats  I noticed  that  the  ladies  rarely  appeared 
on  deck.  In  Quito  the  diplomats  observed  that 
the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  called  on  them 
accompanied  not  by  his  wife,  as  is  the  custom 
everywhere  else,  but  by  his  secretary.  Not  until 
the  reception  to  the  Diplomatic  Corps  did  they 
learn  of  the  existence  of  his  wife.  In  Argentina 
the  women  live  withdrawn  and  the  foreigner  is  not 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


193 


admitted  to  the  family  as  he  is  with  us.  “My 
most  intimate  friends,”  complained  an  attache, 
“will  have  me  to  dine  with  them  at  the  Jockey 
Club,  hut  never  invite  me  to  dine  at  their  homes 
save  when  they  give  a large  and  formal  dinner.” 
When  the  husband  is  absent,  even  for  months, 
the  wife  remains  close  at  home,  her  vigil  unre- 
lieved by  calls,  promenades  or  visits  to  places  of 
amusement.  The  idea — of  male  origin,  of  course 
— is  that  she  ought  to  be  too  disconsolate  to  care 
for  recreation.  The  same  idea  underlies  the  dis- 
approval of  a widow  remarrying,  in  case  she  has 
children  to  comfort  her.  So  heavy  is  the  pressure 
of  conventionality  that  ladies  take  no  exercise, 
follow  no  sports,  and  get  the  air  only  in  a drive 
or  a promenade  about  the  plaza  in  the  evening. 
Besides  various  ailments  this  indoor  life  and  im- 
mobility subjects  them  to  frequent  corpulence  and 
early  fading. 


SIZE  OF  FAMILIES 

The  birth  rate  of  Buenos  Aires  is  36,  of  Rosario 
39,  of  La  Plata  40,  which  sets  them  apart  from 
all  other  cities  of  the  white  race  and  groups  them 
with  Alexandria,  Madras  and  Canton.  Families 
are  large  even  in  the  higher  social  circles.  So- 
ciety women  do  not  seek  to  evade  the  bearing  of 
children,  while  the  childless  wife  considers  herself 
the  most  unfortunate  of  beings.  Among  the  com- 
mon people  of  the  West  Coast  the  birth  rate  is 
quite  medieval.  A Chilean  country  doctor  gave 
me  an  estimate  that  of  the  wives  of  the  rot  os,  half 


194 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


average  a child  a year,  the  other  half  a child  every 
eighteen  months.  The  women  dread  such  fre- 
quent pregnancies  but  the  brutality  of  their  hus- 
bands compels  them  to  submit. 

In  the  higher  classes  the  mothers  are  home-stay- 
ing and  self-sacrificing — “as  fine  as  any  women 
in  the  world,’ ’ declared  an  American  clergyman 
long  resident  in  Buenos  Aires — and  in  return  they 
see  their  children  like  olive  plants  about  their 
table.  The  women  of  the  people  are  devoted,  but, 
owing  to  their  ignorance  and  to  bad  living  con- 
ditions, they  have  poor  luck  with  their  children. 
In  Cali  half  the  children  die  under  two  years  of 
age  while  Colombians  assured  me  that  in  Bogota 
80  per  cent,  die  under  two  years.  It  is  not 
good  form  for  the  mother  to  nurse  her  babe,  so 
after  the  first  month  it  gets  cow’s  milk,  bread, 
melon,  everything.  Said  an  Ecuador  missionary : 
“If  I ask  the  mother  of  four  or  five  living  chil- 
dren how  many  she  has  had  altogether,  I expect 
her  to  reply,  ‘Twelve’  or  ‘Fourteen.’  ” Lima,  I 
was  told,  has  an  infant  mortality  of  236  per  thou- 
sand children  under  one  year  of  age.  The  causes 
are  an  unguarded  milk  supply,  an  appalling  dif- 
fusion of  venereal  diseases  and  a state  of  morals 
which  leaves  half  the  children  to  be  reared  by  an 
unmarried  mother  without  aid  from  the  father. 

In  Chile  the  deaths  of  children  under  one  year 
are  one  third  of  the  births  that  year.  In  the 
“registration  area”  of  the  United  States  in  1911 
eighteen  per  cent,  of  the  deaths  were  of  infants, 
in  Chile  in  the  same  year  forty-one  per  cent. 


* 


Just  after  Sunday  Mass,  Chinchero 


Natives  of  the  Sierra,  near  C’erro  de  Pasco,  Peru 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


197 


One  evening  in  Valparaiso  a lady  deeply  inter- 
ested in  child  welfare  work  was  telling  how  cruel 
the  lower  classes  are  to  their  children, — how  to 
keep  them  quiet  they  give  them  an  infusion  of 
poppy  leaves  which  sometimes  kills  them,  and  how 
the  mothers  of  the  higher  classes  worry  lest  the 
nurse  maids  give  this  drug  to  their  charges. 
“What  is  your  infant  mortality  here!”  I asked. 
“Wait,”  she  replied.  “Let  me  call  up  our  child 
specialist.  ’ ’ Consulted  over  the  telephone  the  doc- 
tor replied:  “Add  to  the  highest  recorded  infant 
mortality  in  the  world  30  per  thousand  and  it  will 
not  exceed  that  of  Valparaiso.”  The  official  fig- 
ures are  333. 

Among  the  Chilean  rotos  the  children  are  car- 
ried off  by  milk  watered,  adulterated  or  drawn 
from  tuberculous  cows,  by  the  giving  of  solid  food 
to  the  infant  of  a few  months  and  by  the  ignorant 
neglect  of  all  regularity  and  measure  in  feeding. 
In  the  ports  of  the  South  venereal  disease  is  ter- 
ribly rife  so  that  it  is  estimated  that  half  the  chil- 
dren die.  In  fact  the  figures  given  for  Concep- 
cion are  46  per  cent.,  for  Valdivia  43  per  cent. 
Yet  in  the  same  towns  the  infant  mortality  among 
the  Germans  will  be  only  an  eighth  or  a tenth  of 
that  of  the  Chileans.  Llanquihue,  a province  as 
large  as  Bavaria,  has  only  a fiftieth  as  many 
people,  so  it  is  not  a question  of  overcrowding. 

The  humanitarians  in  Chile  rightly  demand  the 
taking  of  vigorous  administrative  measures  to 
lessen  the  appalling  waste  of  infant  life — milk  in- 
spection, certified  milk  for  nurslings,  free  dispen- 


198 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


saries,  and  the  teaching  of  mothers  how  to  care 
for  their  children.  None  notice  the  bearing  upon 
race  expansion  of  the  differential  in  infant  mor- 
tality between  Chileans  and  Germans.  At  present 
the  Germans  by  their  intelligence  and  forethought 
succeed  in  making  most  of  their  offspring  live. 
This  advantage  of  theirs  over  the  half-Indian 
rotos  will  disappear,  if  the  stupid  and  careless 
rotos  are  helped  to  save  their  numerous  children 
as  well  as  the  Germans  now  do.  The  preservation 
of  children  from  above  delays  the  replacement  of 
the  lower  stock  by  the  higher  and  may  even  aid  the 
prolific  lower  element  to  outbreed  and  replace  the 
higher.  “Why  should  we  cut  our  own  throats?” 
the  Germans  might  protest. 

MIXED  MARRIAGES 

Free  thinking  or  foreign  husbands  are  managed 
more  than  they  suspect  because  the  wife  has  the 
support  and  counsel  of  the  priest.  The  children 
of  free-thinkers  usually  attend  a church  school 
and  not  infrequently  a liberal  or  radical  public 
man  is  swayed  from  an  intended  line  of  action  by 
his  women-folk.  When  an  Englishman  or  Amer- 
ican marries  a daughter  of  Peru  or  Chile,  he  is 
more  likely  to  come  to  her  standards  than  she  to 
his.  Behind  the  wife,  advising  and  bracing  her, 
stands  the  priest  and  the  two  together  are  usually 
more  than  a match  for  the  husband.  The  children 
will  be  intensely  national  and  Catholic  in  senti- 
ment, while  often  the  man  himself  succumbs  finally 
to  pressure.  What  irony  in  the  contrast  between 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


199 


the  proud  confidence  of  the  young  Anglo-Saxon 
that  he  can  lead  his  meek,  insipid,  bigoted  little 
convent-bred  bride  out  into  his  larger  intellectual 
life  and  his  capitulation  forty  years  later  when, 
weary  of  isolation,  he  yields  to  the  entreaties  of 
his  wife,  backed  by  their  intensely  religious  chil- 
dren and  grandchildren,  and  makes  his  first  con- 
fession! 

THE  CLAN-FAMILY 

Among  the  creoles,  especially  those  of  the  prov- 
inces, persists  the  patriarchal  family  of  olden 
time.  The  married  sons  and  daughters  are  in  no 
hurry  to  set  up  for  themselves.  Father,  mother, 
sons,  daughters,  sons-in-law,  daughters-in-law, 
and  grandchildren  dwell  together  in  some  big 
rambling  establishment  or  in  neighboring  houses, 
continually  unite  about  the  same  table  to  the  num- 
ber of  twenty  or  thirty  and  live  harmoniously  in 
an  atmosphere  of  deep  affection.  With  us  mar- 
riage marks  the  beginning  of  a man’s  independent 
responsibility  and  we  despise  the  son  who  marries 
with  no  home  for  his  bride  but  his  father’s  house. 
In  South  America  a young  man  quite  without  pros- 
pects will  marry  and  live  a year  or  two  off  his 
amiable  family  without  incurring  criticism.  If 
the  father  has  means  the  couple  will  settle  upon 
him  waiting  to  come  into  his  property  at  his  death. 
It  is  not  assumed  as  it  is  among  us  that  the  son 
of  a well-to-do  man  will  make  his  way  in  the  world 
and  support  his  own  family.  “According  to 
Chilean  law,”  remarked  a Valparaiso  lawyer,  “a 
man  must  leave  at  least  three  fourths  of  his  prop- 


200 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


erty  to  his  lineal  descendants.  Hence  his  boys, 
looking  upon  his  property  as  their  own,  are  likely 
to  make  no  effort  to  fend  for  themselves  and  we 
are  cursed  with  a crop  of  worthless  sons  of  rich 
men.” 

WOMEN  OUTSIDE  THE  HOME 

As  yet  there  has  occurred  no  such  emergence 
of  unincumbered  women  from  the  confines  of  the 
home,  no  such  entrance  into  the  industries  and 
professions,  no  such  participation  of  gifted 
women  in  public  discussions  and  public  life  as 
has  taken  place  in  the  United  States  since  the  mid- 
dle of  the  last  century.  There  is  scarcely  any 
paid  work  for  women  outside  the  home.  In  Cali 
a local  editor,  by  employing  some  girls  in  his 
printing  shop,  had  opened  the  first  industrial  op- 
portunity the  women  of  the  place  had  ever  known. 
The  priests  were  criticizing  the  innovation  pri- 
vately, but,  however,  had  said  nothing  in  public. 
In  Colombia  nearly  a third  of  the  elementary 
school  teachers  are  women.  Girls  are  taught  by 
women,  but  not  boys  unless  it  be  urchins  under  ten 
years  of  age.  Farther  south  the  proportion  of 
women  teachers  rises  until  in  Chile  it  is  seventy- 
five  per  cent.,  while  in  Argentina  it  is  the  same  as 
with  us — eighty  per  cent. 

Aside  from  teaching  there  are  few  careers  open 
to  women.  No  chance  in  the  pulpit,  of  course, 
while  the  difficulties  of  obtaining  preparation  in 
medicine  or  law  are  greater  even  than  those  which 
dismayed  the  young  women  who  forty  years  ago 
broke  in  upon  American  clinics  and  law  lectures. 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY 


201 


A few  are  met  with  in  journalism  but  the  South 
American  newspaper,  unlike  some  of  our  dailies, 
does  not  maintain  its  “squab  sob-squad”  of  young 
women  reporters.  There  are  few  saleswomen  and 
the  manufacturing  industries  south  of  Panama 
are  still  too  embryonic  to  offer  appreciable  em- 
ployment to  women. 

On  the  West  Coast  women  in  industry  are  so 
few  that  there  is  no  demand  whatever  for  laws  to 
protect  them. 

Matrimony  being  well  nigh  the  sole  vocation,  the 
lot  of  the  unmarried  woman  is  very  hard.  She  is 
looked  upon  as  a “cull”  in  the  matrimonial  mar- 
ket, just  as  our  people  regarded  the  “old  maid” 
in  grandmother’s  time.  Without  love  and  chil- 
dren she  looks  in  vain  for  some  useful  work  to  do, 
some  place  where  she  will  count.  This  is  why, 
after  realizing  with  bitterness  how  superfluous  she 
is,  the  spinster  is  apt  to  take  the  veil  and  dedicate 
herself  to  a service  in  which  her  prayers  are  sup- 
posed to  have  the  same  efficacy  as  a man’s. 

MAN  AND  WOMAN  BEFORE  MAN-MADE  LAW 

A distinguished  jurisconsult  and  former  rector 
of  the  University  of  Santiago,  Dr.  Valentin 
Letelier,  has  called  my  attention  to  the  subordina- 
tion of  woman  in  the  law  of  Chile,  which  is  much 
the  same  as  that  in  force  in  the  other  Hispano- 
American  countries. 

Thus  according  to  the  code  the  husband  owes  his 
wife  protection  while  she  owes  him  obedience. 
He  is  legally  responsible  for  her  actions,  although 


202 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


not  for  her  crimes.  She  has  no  voice  as  to  place 
of  residence  but  is  bound  to  follow  him,  whatever 
may  be  the  danger  to  her  health  or  her  life. 
Without  the  husband’s  consent  she  may  not  bring 
a lawsuit,  make  or  dissolve  a contract,  forgive  a 
debt,  take  or  reject  a gift,  inheritance  or  legacy, 
be  executrix,  or  buy,  alienate  or  mortgage  produc- 
tive property.  If  the  husband  should  object,  even 
the  deserted  wife  may  not  pawn  her  jewels  to  buy 
herself  bread,  nor  may  she  hire  herself  as  servant, 
needlewoman,  mill  operative  or  stenographer. 

In  the  case  of  divorce  granted  for  the  unfaith- 
fulness of  the  wife  she  loses  all  right  to  profits 
from  their  joint  property;  but  male  legislators 
have  taken  care  to  preserve  the  rights  of  the  hus- 
band to  such  profits,  when  the  divorce  has  been 
granted  on  account  of  his  offending.  The  hus- 
band may  legally  kill  his  wife  surprised  in 
flagrante  delicto , but  the  wife  has  no  such  right 
as  against  her  unfaithful  husband.  The  illegiti- 
mate child  may  institute  legal  inquiry  to  ascertain 
who  is  his  mother  but  not  to  ascertain  who  is  his 
father  because  this  would  “threaten  the  peace  of 
the  home.  ’ ’ Strange  that  the  law  does  not  think 
of  this  “peace”  when  it  scents  the  trail  of  an 
erring  wife ! 

To  the  father  alone,  not  to  both  parents,  the  law 
gives  the  authority  to  direct  the  education  of  the 
children,  to  choose  their  occupation  and  to  enjoy 
the  usufruct  of  any  property  possessed  by  them. 
The  widow  may  not  educate  her  children,  nor  man- 
age their  property  in  her  capacity  as  mother,  but 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY  203 

only  in  case  the  court  has  appointed  her  to  be  their 
guardian. 


SOUTH  AMERICA  ANDROCENTRIC 

The  lot  of  women  in  South  America  recalls  the 
goldfinches  one  sees  the  peasant  of  the  Harz 
Mountains  carrying  to  market  in  tiny  cages  about 
six  inches  each  way.  Among  the  girls  of  the  San- 
tiago upper  class  one  notices,  after  admiring  their 
rose-leaf  and  alabaster  complexions  and  large 
languorous  eyes,  that  the  lower  jaw  and  chin  are 
less  developed  in  the  ’teens  than  they  are  in  the 
American  girl.  Is  not  this  because  the  latter  by 
greater  exercise  of  her  will  has  through  un- 
conscious sympathetic  contraction  of  the  muscles 
built  up  her  chin?  Otherwise  why  should  the  lads 
have  more  chin  than  their  sisters  of  the  same  age  ? 
Happily,  however,  the  eyes  of  these  women  are 
holden  so  that  few  of  them  will  ever  realize  what 
slaves  they  are. 

A philosophical  French  visitor  in  order  to  show 
certain  ladies  of  Buenos  Aires  how  they  were  op- 
pressed by  man-made  conventions  cited  a number 
of  limitations  upon  their  liberty  unknown  to  the 
women  of  his  own  country.  Driven  from  one  po- 
sition after  another  one  of  the  ladies  finally  vindi- 
cated the  freedom  of  the  Argentine  wife  in  this 
wise:  “In  this  perpetual  sacrifice  of  herself  to 
her  husband  and  children  the  woman  finds  her  no- 
bility and  beauty.”  “If  she  never  goes  to  the 
theater  during  her  husband’s  absence,  it  is  not 
that  he  objects  or  that  she  dreads  criticism,  it  is 


204 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


because  without  him  she  could  not  enjoy  herself. 
If  she  shuts  herself  up  at  home,  it  is  because  it  is 
her  pleasure  to  do  so.” 

The  men  have  not  only  determined  what  is  duty 
and  what  is  propriety  for  the  woman,  but  they 
have  gone  so  far  as  to  fix  her  idea  of  masculine 
nature.  The  girls  have  been  reared  in  the  notion 
that  morally  the  two  sexes  are  altogether  “differ- 
ent,” that  men  cannot  control  their  passions  while 
women  can  and  must  control  theirs.  Thus  the  de- 
ceived wife  is  expected  to  pray  for  her  infatuated 
husband  rather  than  to  resent  his  unfaithfulness 
and  part  from  him.  Indeed  some  wives  have  been 
so  well  trained  out  of  their  natural  jealousy  as  to 
be  quite  philosophical  about  the  goings-on  of  the 
spouse — will  even  joke  him  about  his  amours,  and 
in  the  presence  of  others.  They  draw  the  line  not 
at  infidelity  but  at  certain  aggravations  of  it. 
One  will  say,  “I  tell  him  it ’s  all  right  so  long  as 
he  does  n’t  bring  her  to  the  house.”  Another  will 
declare,  “I  don’t  complain  of  his  affairs  with  low 
people  but  he ’d  better  not  run  after  any  woman  in 
our  social  position.” 

Besides  imposing  a “jug-handled”  sex  morality 
the  men  appear  to  reserve  to  themselves  more 
than  their  share  of  the  good  things  of  life.  No 
matter  how  bare  the  home  or  how  dull  the  life  of 
the  wife,  the  merchant  or  professional  man  in  the 
provincial  town  must  drive  in  a cab,  have  a boy 
carry  his  valise,  add  from  a third  to  a half  to  the 
price  of  every  meal  in  hotel  or  dining  car  by  con- 
suming bottled  goods,  and  every  now  and  then  buy 


Native  wayfarer  in  Tiahuanacu,  Bolivia  Waterman  of  La  Paz 


WOMEN  AND  THE  FAMILY  207 


himself  an  amour.  The  wives  do  not  smoke  nor 
drink,  they  are  little  seen  in  restaurants  and 
places  of  public  amusement  and  it  is  not  easy  to 
see  what  they  get  that  costs  money. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


MORALS 

‘T^TE  are  thinking  of  having  our  telephone 
V V taken  out,”  remarked  an  American  in 
Buenos  Aires.  “When  the  operator  is  tired  she 
will  ignore  your  call  or  else  report  ‘ occupado * 
when,  in  fact,  the  number  you  want  is  free.  She 
finds  it  easier  to  lie  than  to  connect  you.”  “And 
incivility,”  I asked,  “much  complaint  on  that 
score?”  “No,”  he  replied;  “central  is  never 
impertinent.  ’ 1 

This  brings  out  one  aspect  of  Spanish- American 
manners;  the  other  appears  in  the  creole  station 
agent  of  an  English  railway  in  Argentina.  Ow- 
ing to  a closed  switch  two  trains  had  collided  at 
his  station  with  great  loss  of  life.  Questioned  as 
to  why  the  switch  had  not  been  opened  after  he 
had  received  notice  of  the  meeting  of  the  trains 
at  his  station,  he  replied,  “The  switchman  was 
sick  abed  and  there  were  no  other  peons  about.” 
“But  why  did  n’t  you  throw  the  switch  yourself?” 
“I?  Why  I am  the  station  agent.  How  should  I 
do  it?  One  has  his  dignity  to  consider.” 

The  old  social  order  of  the  colonial  era  fostered 
courtesy ; and  now  that  privileged  classes  are  gone 
and  good  manners  have  been  generalized,  society 
is  the  richer  for  the  vanished  regime.  In  the  man- 

208 


MORALS 


209 


ner  of  muleteer,  of  field  peon,  even  of  negro  long- 
shoreman there  is  something  of  the  old  time  defer- 
ence. Yet  underneath  it  there  is  no  servility  but 
rather  a democratic  sense  of  personal  worth  which 
will  stand  abuse  from  no  one. 

The  Peruvians,  being  nearest  to  Lima,  the  chief 
radiant  point  of  Spanish  influence,  have  probably 
been  more  affected  by  Old  World  cortesia  than 
any  other  South  Americans.  One  happy  result 
is  their  comparative  freedom  from  brawls.  In 
five  months  Harry  Franck,  the  traveler,  had  seen 
but  one  fracas.  Even  in  their  cups  men  do  not 
quarrel.  Since  each  knows  the  right  thing  to  do 
and  say  in  every  situation,  there  is  little  friction. 
Among  Americans  how  many  brawls  arise  from 
misunderstandings ! But  when  peaceful  intent  is 
made  known  in  conventional  forms  misunderstand- 
ings are  rare. 

There  are  probably  two  reasons  why  ordinary 
Americans  are  so  lacking  in  manners.  One  is  the 
continuous  westward  movement  causing  the  per- 
petual recurrence  of  rude  frontier  conditions. 
The  other  is  the  sudden  growth  of  a feeling  of  in- 
dependence in  multitudes  of  immigrants  from  the 
humbler  strata  of  Europe.  The  old  American,  as 
you  find  him  in  the  South,  knows  that  there  is  a 
politeness  for  equals  as  well  as  a feudal  polite- 
ness. But  the  immigrants  soon  drop  their  native 
manners  as  servile  and  think  by  roughness  and 
surliness  to  express  the  spirit  of  the  true  demo- 
crat. 

The  courtesy  of  the  South  Americans  of  the  up- 


210 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


per  class  warms  the  heart  of  the  stranger.  Lie 
overnight  in  a village  and  next  morning  the 
gobernador  and  his  friends  will  ride  with  you  a 
couple  of  miles.  After  you  have  stopped  a few 
days  in  a town  several  persons  you  have  met  will 
be  at  the  station  to  see  you  off.  If  you  are  ill  the 
faithfulness  of  your  friends  of  a day  or  two  in 
calling  and  inquiring  about  you  is  a real  solace. 
On  shipboard  the  South  American  passengers  are 
the  most  approachable,  the  quickest  to  reach  a 
footing  of  good  fellowship.  Friends  embrace  on 
meeting  or  parting  and  one  soon  ceases  to  object 
to  it.  Even  business  communications  are  not 
pared  down  to  bare  utility.  An  Ecuador  mer- 
chant wants  the  steamer  to  pick  up  his  coffee,  so 
he  wires  up  the  coast : 

Senor  Capitan  del  Vapor  Manavi — 

I salute  you  most  affectionately.  I have  five  hundred 
sacks  afloat  and  ready. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

Concha. 


An  American  would  wire : 

Five  hundred  sacks  afloat. 

Smith. 

It  is  easy  to  belittle  such  demonstrativeness  as 
empty  form  but  I believe  such  depreciation  is  un- 
just. These  people  are  affectionate  in  the  family, 
and  seem  to  carry  out  some  of  this  warm-hearted- 
ness to  their  relatives  and  their  friends.  In  trop- 
ical South  America  people  are  good  to  their 


MORALS 


211 


friends,  and  their  warmth  of  manner  is  not 
a mask.  An  American  lady  in  Lima  prob- 
ably hit  the  bull’s  eye  with  the  shrewd  remark, 
“The  Peruvian  women  being  so  simpatica  and 
affectionate  in  manner  are  charming  friends, 
though  of  course  you  can’t  depend  upon  them  in  a 
tight  place.” 

Generous  these  people  are  but  their  generosity 
is  for  family  and  friends,  not  often  for  a cause  or 
for  the  common  good.  “Altruism,”  said  a min- 
ister, as  we  surveyed  the  glorious  scenery  from  a 
peak  above  Quito,  “scarcely  exists  here.  I have 
never  known  of  more  than  two  or  three  Ecuado- 
rans working  for  the  public  interest.  Rich  men  do 
not  consider  ways  of  serving  their  fellows.  In  an 
emergency  everybody  looks  to  government  to  pro- 
vide relief.  The  recent  bequest  by  a woman  of 
$60,000  for  the  benefit  of  superannuated  Indian 
female  servants  is  the  only  philanthropic  gift  I 
have  heard  of  in  five  years.  ’ ’ 

“Ordinary  Peruvians,”  declared  a Lima  so- 
ciologist, “are  affectionate  and  generous  in  dispo- 
sition but  care  nothing  for  the  general  welfare. 
Theirs  is  a life  of  egoism  tempered  by  affection.” 
Nor  is  the  Bolivian  any  better.  “In  my  thirty 
years  here,”  said  a German  merchant,  “not  once 
have  I known  a rich  man  to  give  five  centavos  for 
education  although  they  do  leave  money  for  hos- 
pitals and  orphanages,” — which  tallies  with  the 
statement  of  an  educator,  “I  have  never  known  a 
rich  Bolivian  to  give  a penny  to  a public  utility, 
such  as  a school.” 


212 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


A Chilean  of  American  ancestry  illustrated  the 
egoism  of  the  Chileans  by  the  fact  that  when, 
as  not  infrequently  happens,  a country  house  is 
attacked  by  bandits,  the  neighbors  do  not  rush 
to  the  aid  of  the  beleaguered  but  each  barricades 
himself  in  his  own  house.  Nor  does  it  occur  to 
them  to  form  a posse  to  pursue  the  bandits. 
They  leave  that  to  the  police. 

A little  peering  about  in  Spanish-American 
society  helps  one  realize  what  a socializing  in- 
fluence democracy  has  been  in  this  country.  For 
example  Minnesota  implement  men  working  in 
the  wheat  belt  of  Argentina  are  struck  by  the  lack 
of  neighborly  consideration  there.  The  decent 
pedestrian  must  not  expect  a lift  from  the  passing 
vehicle  nor  an  invitation  to  stop  if  night  overtakes 
him.  The  respectable  traveler,  unless  he  comes 
recommended,  will  be  put  off  with  the  peons,  if 
indeed  he  is  allowed  to  set  foot  on  the  place  at 
all.  A machinist  who  could  not  drink  the  brackish 
well  water  sent  a peon  nine  miles  to  ask  a ranch- 
man for  a jug  of  rain  water  and  the  water  was 
refused.  Often  the  owner  of  a big  estcmcia  lying 
on  the  direct  route  to  town  will  oblige  his  neigh- 
bors to  go  miles  out  of  their  way,  rather  than 
allow  a public  highway  to  cross  his  land.  Owing 
to  the  political  domination  of  the  landed  interest, 
there  is  no  legal  way  of  forcing  through  such  a 
public  utility.  Again,  it  is  noticed  that  Argentine 
ranchmen  who  are  on  good  terms  with  one  an- 
other do  not  gather  so  often  for  social  enjoyment 
as  our  farmers  do. 


MORALS 


213 


The  agricultural  Indians  of  the  West  Coast 
had  a developed  property  sense  before  ever  the 
white  man  came  and  centuries  of  mistreatment 
since  then  does  not  appear  to  have  broken  it  down. 
One  hears  little  complaint  of  their  pilfering.  The 
negroes,  too,  have  an  enviable  reputation  for 
honesty.  The  Anglo-Colombian  Mining  Co.  will 
entrust  a negro  employee  with  thousands  of 
dollars  worth  of  platinum  to  carry  down  to  the 
Coast.  It  is  the  mestizo  who  is  complained  of  as 
dishonest.  The  Chilean  masses,  on  the  other 
hand,  have  a bad  name  for  larceny.  In  Chilean 
ports  ship  passengers  are  warned  to  lock  their 
cabin  doors  and  loaded  lighters  have  to  be 
guarded  at  night.  Chilean  stokers  will  saw 
through  the  bulkhead  into  the  vessel’s  hold,  steal 
goods  and  hide  them  in  the  coal  bunkers  till  the 
night  after  they  arrive  in  port,  when  they  find 
opportunity  to  lower  them  overside  to  a confed- 
erate in  a boat,  under  cover  of  darkness.  Harbor 
thieves  will  even  cut  a hole  in  the  bow  of  a vessel 
and  make  off  with  boatloads  of  freight.  The 
Germans  of  southern  Chile  have  the  worst  opin- 
ion of  Chilean  honesty  and  in  Santiago  I was 
bidden  notice  the  high  walls  and  grated  windows 
of  the  houses  of  the  better  class. 

The  thievishness  of  the  common  Chileans  is 
commonly  held  to  be  a heritage  from  the  Indian 
side  of  their  ancestry.  The  Mapuche  had  not  de- 
veloped far  in  the  morals  of  property  and  the  two 
centuries  of  harsh  slavery  after  the  Conquest 
would  certainly  not  tend  to  foster  honesty  in 


J 


214 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


them.  Nor  should  one  forget  that  the  Chileans, 
although  from  a third  to  two  thirds  of  their  blood 
is  European,  draw  their  moral  standards  chiefly 
from  aborigines  at  the  level  of  development  of  the 
Stone  Age.  The  breed  sprang  from  the  union  of 
white  men  with  native  or  mestiza  women.  The 
resulting  children  were  reared  by  the  mother  alone 
and  of  course  absorbed  completely  her  stock  of 
ideas.  They  had  the  white  man’s  blood,  but  noth- 
ing of  the  white  man’s  culture  save  certain  re- 
ligious notions  and  practices.  So,  through  the 
female  line,  the  rotos  are  heirs  of  the  primitive 
superstitions,  ways  and  customs  of  the  aborigines 
and  this  heritage  it  is  which  fixes  such  a deep 
gulf  between  classes  and  masses  in  Chile. 

It  is  the  Mapuche  in  him  that  makes  the  Chilean 
a fatalist.  “The  common  people  here,”  said  a 
Valparaiso  lawyer,  “make  no  effort  to  shield 
their  families  or  themselves  against  a contagious 
disease.  Nor  is  there  ever  a panic  or  an  exodus 
when  smallpox  or  other  epidemic  breaks  out  any- 
where. ’ ’ Being  without  fear  of  death  the  Chilean 
is  as  reckless  of  his  own  life  as  he  is  of  the  lives 
of  others.  After  some  words  over  their  wine  two 
rotos  will  step  outside  and  go  at  each  other  with 
their  long  curved  knives,  known  as  curbos,  till 
one  or  both  are  dead.  I have  heard  of  two 
brothers  lashing  their  left  legs  together  at  the 
knee  and  fighting  to  the  death  with  their  knives. 
It  is  his  penchant  for  ripping  open  the  abdomen 
of  his  opponent  with  a slash  of  his  curbo  that 
makes  the  Chilean  so  dreaded  as  a soldier.  A 


Sunday  market  within  an  ancient  Incan  enclosure,  Chinchero 


MORALS 


217 


shudder  runs  through  the  West  Coast  at  the 
thought  of  hostilities  with  Chile.  In  the  attack 
on  the  Morro  at  Arica  in  the  War  of  the  Pacific 
the  Chilean  assailants  threw  aside  their  guns  and 
went  at  the  Peruvians  with  their  curbos.  The 
ruling  class  of  the  Republic  make  a pet  of  their 
army  and  have  much  to  say  of  the  soldierly  quali- 
ties of  the  Chilean  private,  but,  after  all,  it  is  the 
Araucanian  demon  in  him  that  they  are  banking 
on. 

That  the  bull  fight  has  never  been  tolerated  in 
Chile  must  be  credited  to  the  classes  rather  than 
to  the  masses.  The  common  people  are  said  to 
be  terribly  cruel  to  their  children  and  their  treat- 
ment of  dumb  animals  stirs  the  indignation  of  the 
stranger.  The  rural  roto,  like  the  Bedouin,  ap- 
pears to  have  grown  into  a certain  intimacy  with 
his  horses  and  oxen  and  is  considerate  of  them; 
but  the  town  Chilean  will  lash  a poor  beast  doing 
its  utmost  from  sheer  pleasure  in  the  infliction  of 
suffering.  When  a horse  lies  spent  he  will  jab 
it  with  a stick  or  knife  although  he  well  knows 
that  it  cannot  get  up. 

The  bull  fight  which  flourishes  in  Peru  is  quite 
as  ghastly  and  demoralizing  as  it  has  been  said 
to  be.  No  cultivated  man  justifies  it;  it  is  always 
explained  as  “ancient  custom”;  yet  when  the 
students  of  the  University  of  San  Marcos  get  up  a 
fiesta  they  can  think  of  nothing  better  to  do  than 
to  invite  the  public  to  watch  them  kill  a few  bulls. 

It  is  incredible  but  true  that  high  dignitaries  by 
their  presence  lend  the  bull  fight  a qwusi-official 


218 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


character  and  that  respectable  people  take  their 
children  of  tender  years  to  witness  the  spectacle. 
They  think  such  sights  tend  to  foster  manliness, 
but  they  are  mistaken.  Manly  men  find  a zest 
in  their  own  danger,  not  in  the  danger  of  others. 
The  bull-ring  enthusiasts  are  soft,  even  if  their 
hearts  are  hard  enough  to  enjoy  seeing  poor 
horses  spurred  to  a fresh  charge  with  their  en- 
trails trailing  on  the  ground.  One  can  feel  noth- 
ing but  contempt  for  the  weak,  well-dressed, 
self-indulgent  spectators  who  sitting  safe  cry 
“nearer”  to  the  matador  so  that  he  may  risk  his 
life  in  order  to  give  them  a thrill,  and  hiss  the 
bull  fighter  who  shows  himself  wary  of  the  sharp 
horns. 


ALCOHOLISM 

The  South  Europeans  are  proverbially  sober, 
so  wherever  in  South  America  the  Spanish  ele- 
ment predominates  there  is  little  hard  drinking. 
The  peons  of  the  pampas  gamble  recklessly  but 
drink  little.  Wassail  is  by  no  means  as  rife 
among  the  students  of  the  University  of  Buenos 
Aires  as  it  is  in  our  own  universities.  Said  a 
young  Argentine,  “When  we  are  planning  a ban- 
quet it  makes  a great  difference  to  us  whether  or 
not  there  are  to  be  foreigners  among  the  guests. 
The  presence  of  foreigners  obliges  us  to  add  from 
a third  to  a half  to  the  cost  of  the  banquet  in  order 
to  provide  liquors.”  Still,  even  Iberic  sobriety 
is  not  fool-proof.  In  the  ports  the  native  born 
are  affected  by  the  customs  of  the  foreign  ele- 


MORALS 


219 


ment.  In  Guayaquil  there  are  twenty  bars  where 
there  was  one  forty  years  ago  and  within  the  last 
ten  years  the  consumption  of  spirits  has  increased 
fifty  per  cent,  chiefly  owing  to  the  spread  of  the 
brandy-and-soda  habit.  In  the  University  Club  at 
Lima  the  outstanding  feature  is  not  the  two  or 
three  pieces  of  gymnastic  apparatus,  the  baths — 
which  are  noticeable  by  their  absence — or  the 
locked  and  unused  library,  but  the  large  and 
varied  display  of  bottled  goods  at  the  bar. 

The  victims  of  alcohol  on  the  West  Coast  are 
chiefly  the  natives  and  mestizos,  who  crave  it  as 
the  North  American  Indians  craved  firewater. 
Drinking  makes  the  holiday  or  feast  for  the  na- 
tives and  is  becoming  worse  as  rum  from  the 
sugar  plantations  displaces  their  ancient  chicha. 
The  Peruvians  of  the  interior  drink  to  a serious 
extent.  In  every  little  town  is  a bodega  or  two 
stocked  to  the  ceiling  with  bottles  of  many  colors. 
Aside  from  hard  goods  there  is  nothing  to  slake 
thirst  but  ditch  water.  The  lack  of  soft  drinks 
is  a misfortune,  for  I am  sure  a thousand  soda 
fountains  well  placed  would  work  a moral  revolu- 
tion in  Peru. 

In  La  Paz  it  is  said  that  most  of  the  Bolivian 
school  teachers  drink.  The  judges  of  the  High 
Court  agreed  that  90  per  cent,  of  the  crimes  of 
the  Indians  are  due  to  liquor.  Recently  the  law 
prohibiting  the  sale  of  spirits  in  and  about  ceme- 
teries has  put  an  end  to  the  grewsome  orgies  of 
All  Souls’  Day,  when  the  Aymaras  sat  in  groups 
about  the  graves  of  their  recent  dead  and 


220 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


“ waked”  themselves  into  beastly  intoxication. 
Unlike  the  Indian,  who  drinks  on  occasion,  the 
cholos  are  habitual  drinkers  and  often  sots. 

It  is  in  Chile,  however,  that  one  meets  with 
perhaps  the  worst  alcoholism  to  be  found  in  the 
world  to-day.  Said  one  foreigner,  “I  have  been 
in  twenty-two  countries  and  I have  never  seen  it 
so  bad.  ’ ’ The  root  of  the  trouble  is  alleged  to  be 
the  well-nigh  uncontrollable  love  of  ardent  spirits 
the  masses  inherit  with  their  Mapuche  blood. 
The  Mapuches,  a more  primitive  people  than  the 
Kechuas,  seem  to  have  been  less  experienced  with 
alcohol  and  were  certainly  less  steadied  by  in- 
dustrial habits.  Not  military  subjugation  but  al- 
cohol was  the  cause  of  their  ultimate  downfall. 
They  recklessly  parted  with  their  lands  for  liquor 
and  in  some  instances  Indians  who  were  in  some- 
body’s way  were  deliberately  exterminated  by  ply- 
ing them  with  firewater  as  they  wanted  it.  I was 
told  of  an  Englishman  who  in  the  old  days  under- 
took to  reduce  the  “unconquerable  Araucanians” 
by  setting  up  among  them  a distillery  of  wood 
alcohol.  He  entirely  cleared  them  from  his  field 
of  operations  and  became  a land  magnate. 

Chile  is  a vine  land  so  the  grape,,  rather  than 
corn,  rye  or  potato,  furnishes  stimulant  for  her 
sons.  Nine  tenths  of  the  common  people  consume 
a cheap  native  wine  sold  at  eight  cents  the  quart 
while  the  remainder  drink  native  spirits  made 
from  grapes  or  grape  skins.  So  strong  is  the  po- 
litical influence  of  the  great  vineyardists  that  the 
same  government  which  imposed  a tax  of  twenty 


MORALS 


221 


cents  a quart  upon  the  production  of  potable 
spirits  from  cereal,  thereby  driving  five  sixths  of 
the  grain  distillers  into  bankruptcy,  taxed  the  pro- 
ducers of  alcohol  from  grapes,  not  by  the  quart, 
but  by  the  acre  of  vineyard,  which  of  course  made 
their  tax  a mere  bagatelle  to  them. 

It  is  impossible  to  exaggerate  the  ravages  of 
alcohol  among  the  half -Indian  masses.  Often  the 
husband  drinks  up  all  he  earns  and  the  woman 
by  her  labor  supports  the  children.  Encina  de- 
clares, “With  few  exceptions  the  Chilean  laborer 
gambles  away  or  drinks  up  most  of  his  wages.” 
Fortunately,  the  women  almost  never  drink. 
There  is  no  instruction  of  school  children  in  tem- 
perance and,  so  far,  moral  suasion  has  had  little 
effect.  The  lack  of  diversions  in  the  rural  dis- 
tricts makes  it  very  hard  to  wean  the  country 
folk  from  their  liquor.  Compulsive  social  action 
is  needed  but  the  great  vineyardists  are  politi- 
cally powerful  enough  to  prevent  it.  The  law 
forbidding  the  sale  of  liquor  within  650  feet  of 
a school  is  often  ignored.  The  employers  are 
against  alcohol  so  far  as  it  lowers  the  efficiency  of 
labor,  but  they  set  no  example  of  temperance. 

THE  SEX  OBSESSION 

Lubricity,  as  well  as  thievishness,  courage, 
ferocity  and  alcoholic  thirst,  seems  to  be  a part  of 
the  Chileans’  inheritance  from  the  Mapuches. 
The  sharpness  of  sex  appetite  in  the  common 
people  is  a matter  of  frequent  remark  among  the 
foreigners  settled  in  Chile.  The  male  is  a danger- 


222 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


ous  rapist  and  at  several  places  in  South  Chile 
I was  told  that  no  white  woman  ever  goes  alone 
on  the  country  road.  The  danger  is  not  from  the 
Indian,  who  stands  in  awe  of  the  whites,  but  from 
the  Chilean,  whose  lust  seems  at  times  to  know 
no  bounds.  Dark  and  unnamable  practices  occur 
among  the  Chilean  sailors  in  the  rancJias,  or  fore- 
castles, of  the  West  Coast  steamships.  The  ni- 
trate fields  of  the  North,  which  employ  45,000 
laborers,  half  of  them  Chilenos,  present  an  extra- 
ordinary spectacle  of  male  human  life  reduced  to 
its  simplest  terms.  The  hulk  of  the  men  after 
working  a month  or  so  at  the  nitrate  plants  spend 
a week  at  the  nearest  port  squandering  health 
and  savings  on  liquor  and  prostitutes.  The  pro- 
fessor of  nitrates  at  the  State  University  declares 
that  ninety  per  cent,  of  these  workingmen  are  in- 
fected with  venereal  disease.  The  same  figure 
was  given  me  as  measuring  the  infection  of  men 
in  the  sea-ports  of  Chile.  It  is  worthy  of  notice 
that  according  to  the  report  of  Dr.  Coni  of  Buenos 
Aires  in  1908  a quarter  of  the  Chilean  army  and 
more  than  a fifth  of  the  Argentine  army  are 
treated  for  such  infections  in  a single  year. 

The  Mapuche  inheritance  does  not  manifest 
itself  in  the  male  sex  alone.  There  is  a reason 
why  the  Chilean  prostitute  is  a familiar  figure  in 
all  the  ports  and  mining  centers  of  Western  South 
America.  The  head  of  a missionary  school 
reported  difficulty  in  curbing  and  safeguarding 
the  girls  entrusted  to  the  school.  Said  an  elderly 
ranchman  near  a provincial  capital:  “There  is 


MORALS 


223 


no  morality  among  tlie  daughters  of  the  people. 
It  is  almost  impossible  to  obtain  a domestic  who 
is  not  encumbered  with  one  or  two  children.  Very 
few  prostitutes  can  make  a living  here,  not  because 
the  men  are  chaste  but  because  the  women  are 
easy.”  In  Valdivia  the  judgment  ran,  “Every 
servant  girl  here  is  loose.  Outside  the  higher 
social  class  no  girl  over  fourteen  is  a virgin. 
Among  the  lower  orders  the  entire  family  sleep 
in  one  room  and  there  is  much  incest.” 

Save  in  pietistic  circles,  continence  before 
marriage  does  not  seem  to  enter  into  the  mascu- 
line ideal  of  the  South  Americans.  Without 
exception  the  physicians  and  educators  questioned 
agreed  that  all  young  men  sow  their  wild 
oats.  Outside  of  Chile  it  is  hardly  a matter  of 
blood,  for  in  point  of  sensuality  the  Indians  of 
Ecuador,  Peru  and  Bolivia  do  not  seem  to  differ 
in  endowment  from  the  Spaniards.  The  fact  that 
sex  is  an  overmastering  concern  in  males  from 
puberty  on  may  be  attributable  in  part  to  climate. 
There  is,  indeed,  very  unequivocal  evidence  that, 
irrespective  of  altitude,  the  human  organism  in 
the  tropics  is  affected  in  ways  adverse  to  the 
moral  standards  wrought  out  in  the  lands  of  the 
slanting  sun.  Then  one  must  allow  for  the  factor 
of  early  contamination.  Throughout  tropical 
South  America  the  mother  of  the  better  classes 
does  not  care  for  her  children  herself  but  turns 
them  over  to  native  nurses  and  servants,  so  that 
the  obscenities  and  low  standards  of  the  ignorant 
servile  element  are  emptied  into  the  minds  of  even 


224 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  children  of  the  ruling  caste.  Add  to  this  the 
easy  accessibility  of  the  chola  and  it  is  clear  why 
in  these  countries  it  is  well-nigh  impossible  to  keep 
any  life  current  free  from  pollution  from  below. 

Another  reason  why  the  young  men  ‘ ‘ think  and 
talk  of  nothing  but  women,”  why  they  listen  with 
polite  incredulity  to  an  account  of  the  relations 
between  the  sexes  in  the  United  States  and  re- 
gard our  moral  tone  as  pure  hypocrisy,  is  the 
bareness  of  life,  the  paucity  of  things  to  do.  With 
us  athletics,  games,  sports,  camping,  scholarship, 
public  discussion,  political  reform,  social  work, 
business  and  travel  compete  with  the  sex  interest 
and  aid  men  to  control  it.  If  life  presented  more 
interests  to  the  young  South  Americans,  their 
morals  would  be  better.  It  is  strange  that  such 
a flank  attack  on  evil  does  not  seem  to  have  oc- 
curred to  their  spiritual  leaders.  From  the  pul- 
pit one  hears  perfervid  denunciations  of  sensua- 
lity, but  the  preacher  can  suggest  no  remedy  but 
the  conquest  of  the  sensual  man  by  the  spiritual 
man,  while  virtue  is  presented  as  a sheer  dead-lift 
against  the  downward  pull  of  one’s  nature.  He 
might  well  take  a hint  from  the  Yankee  educators 
in  Bolivia,  who  keep  their  boarding-school  lads 
straight  by  the  simple  expedient  of  crowding  the 
day  so  full  that  they  have  no  time  for  naughty 
thoughts. 

WEAKNESS  OF  THE  FAMILY 

The  extent  to  which  marriage  is  ignored  is,  no 
doubt,  the  most  extraordinary  social  phenomenon 


MORALS 


225 


in  South  America.  In  Cali  the  “barefoot”  are 
very  free  and  easy  in  their  relations,  while  it  is 
said  that  the  sons  of  the  “shod”  all  have  mis- 
tresses from  the  daughters  of  the  people.  Half 
the  children  are  returned  as  illegitimate,  but  the 
editor  of  the  leading  paper  insisted  the  propor- 
tion is  nearer  three-fifths.  In  Manta,  Ecuador, 
it  is  given  as  one  half,  in  Guayaquil  as  from  one 
quarter  to  one-third.  In  Lima  through  a series  of 
years  the  proportion  of  “natural”  children  has 
been  51  per  cent.  The  Peruvian  statistician 
Fuentes  writes  of  the  “sad picture”  Lima  presents 
and  adds,  “a  shocking  proportion  of  the  people 
avoid  marriage  and  live  in  a complete  libertinage, 
which  increases  as  one  descends  the  social  scale.” 
The  taker  of  the  census  of  Cuzco  finds  “an  aston- 
ishing proportion  of  unmarried  people  with  chil- 
dren.” Ample  justification  for  these  utterances 
lies  in  the  fact  that,  while  among  us  two-thirds  of 
the  people  over  15  years  of  age  are  or  have  been 
married,  the  proportion  for  Cuzco  is  30  per  cent, 
and  for  Lima  20  per  cent. ! 

In  Bolivia  twenty-eight  per  cent,  of  the  army 
recruits  in  1910  were  born  out  of  wedlock.  It  is 
not  chiefly  the  Indians  who  offend  in  this  respect, 
for  some  of  their  groups  have  an  illegitimacy  as 
low  as  two  per  cent,  which  is  probably  a little 
above  the  rate  in  the  United  States.  A mission- 
ary in  a Bolivia  mining  center  thus  summed  up  the 
situation;  “Among  the  cholas  here  there  is  very 
little  marriage.  They  take  up  with  one  another 
like  the  lower  negroes  in  the  South.  Some  have 


226 


SOUTH  OP  PANAMA 


a new  partner  about  every  year.  In  the  relation 
between  man  and  woman  there  is  very  little  stead- 
fastness or  loyalty,  while  in  the  community  there 
is  no  crystallized  moral  sentiment  regulating  the 
conduct  of  the  individual.  Social  standards  do 
not  exist,  so  each  does  about  as  he  likes.” 

The  situation  is  lit  up  by  the  questions  asked  in 
perfect  innocence  by  a lady  calling  on  the  wife  of 
an  American  missionary  in  La  Paz.  Her  first 
inquiry  was  “Are  all  these  your  children?”  Her 
second,  “Are  they  all  by  the  same  man?”  Her 
third,  “Are  you  married  to  the  father  of  these 
children  ? ’ ’ 

In  Chile  thirty-eight  per  cent,  of  all  births  are 
out  of  wedlock,  while  in  the  cities  the  neglect  of 
the  institution  of  marriage  is  simply  astounding. 
In  Santiago  the  proportion  of  illegitimate  births 
in  1911  was  45  per  cent.,  in  Osomo,  50  per  cent.,  in 
La  Serena  55  per  cent.,  and  in  Concepcion  57  per 
cent.!  Said  a business  man  of  Valdivia,  “In  the 
country  a couple  live  together  with  some  con- 
stancy but  in  the  towns  there  is  the  utmost  free- 
dom in  sex  relations.  Any  number  of  unmarried 
women  have  their  children  to  bring  up  with  no 
man  to  help.” 

Argentina,  in  the  main  a white  man’s  country, 
makes  a far  better  showing.  Its  illegitimacy  is 
only  one-fifth.  In  the  city  and  province  of  Buenos 
Aires  it  is  only  one-seventh,  but  in  the  provinces 
to  the  north  having  a considerable  mestizo  ele- 
ment the  proportion  exceeds  a third  and  in  one 
case  reaches  three-fifths. 


Under  the  ceiba  trees  near  Cali,  Colombia 


Types  met  on  the  trail  from  Buenaventura  to  Cali 


MORALS 


229 


Before  drawing  dark  inferences  from  these 
figures  one  ought  to  take  notice  of  certain  facts. 
In  Colombia  and  Ecuador  it  is  frequently  declared 
that  many  loyal  couples  live  unmarried  owing  to 
the  high  cost  of  the  church  marriage.  Eight 
dollars,  the  minimum  fee,  is  a serious  charge  for 
a peon  earning  a few  cents  a day.  Even  the  men 
of  the  higher  social  class  are  not  likely  to  marry 
until  they  are  well  on  in  the  thirties,  the  reason 
being  the  cost  of  a first  class  wedding,  which 
may  run  into  $800  or  $1,000.  Not  only  are  the 
church  services  in  such  a case  very  elaborate  and 
hence  costly,  but  even  more  expensive  is  the  social 
pomp  and  entertainment  that  goes  with  such  a 
wedding.  It  is  perhaps  the  same  factor  which  in 
La  Paz  delays  marriage  to  such  an  extent  that 
the  number  of  persons  marrying  between  40  and 
45  years  of  age  is  thrice  the  number  marrying 
between  35  and  40  years,  thrice  the  number  marry- 
ing between  30  and  35  years,  and  four  times  the 
number  of  brides  and  grooms  between  20  and  25 
years  of  age.  Ecuador,  it  is  true,  unlike  Colom- 
bia, provides  civil  marriage  at  a nominal  cost,  but 
most  of  the  brides  feel  that  a marriage  is  not  real 
unless  the  priest  performs  it.  In  Chile  ecclesiasti- 
cal marriage  is  not  recognized  by  law,  and  many 
worthy  couples  of  the  lower  classes  who  content 
themselves  with  the  priest’s  blessing  and  ignore 
the  civil  ceremony,  find  that  their  children  count 
as  illegitimate. 

There  is  a story  of  an  aged  colored  couple  in 
J amaica  who  after  sixty  years  of  faithfulness  were 


230 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


persuaded  by  their  children  to  get  married.  They 
did  so  and  in  the  wedding  procession  there  were 
seven  coach  loads  of  their  descendants.  Such  a 
tale  helps  us  interpret  not  too  harshly  the  West 
Indian  illegitimacy,  which  ranges  from  a half  to 
three-fifths  of  all  births.  In  the  same  way  we 
should  beware  of  taking  the  statistics  I have  cited 
as  an  exact  measure  of  the  departure  of  South 
Americans  from  the  monogamic  family.  Men 
and  women  stand  by  one  another  better  than  the 
figures  show,  although  no  one  is  ready  to  say  how 
much  better.  Yet,  after  such  allowances  are 
made,  the  marriage  institution  appears  to  be 
weaker  on  the  West  Coast  of  South  America  than 
in  any  other  Christian  land,  in  the  Mussulman 
countries  or  in  the  societies  of  India,  China  and 
Japan. 


CHAPTER  IX 


CHARACTER 

A RICH  Ecuador  planter  was  cursing  the  out- 
come of  the  elections.  “Did  you  vote?” 
asked  his  friend,  the  American  Consul.  “No.” 
‘ ‘ Then  why  do  you  complain  ? ” “ But  I would  n ’t 
be  allowed  to  vote.  With  troops  at  every  polling 
place  driving  away  those  of  my  party  what  would 
be  the  use  of  my  trying?”  “Then  why  don’t  you 
and  other  intelligent  people  who  are  treated  that 
way  organize  and  march  to  the  polls  in  a body, 
thus  overawing  the  squad  of  troops?”  It  had 
never  occurred  to  these  planters  to  band  them- 
selves together  in  order  to  get  their  rights;  nor 
did  they  act  on  the  Consul’s  suggestion. 

Another  who  sought  the  nomination  for  the 
presidency  told  the  same  Consul  that  he  saw  no 
way  of  getting  his  name  before  the  people.  The 
Consul,  who  in  his  youth  had  been  secretary  of  the 
State  Committee  of  his  party,  suggested  to  the 
aspirant  that  he  form  in  every  province,  district 
and  parish  a committee  of  his  political  friends 
who  should  bring  his  merits  to  the  attention 
of  the  voters.  The  aspirant  ignored  the  Consul’s 
advice  and  shortly  afterward  withdrew  his  candi- 
dacy. 


231 


232 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


MUTUAL  DISTRUST 

The  cause  of  the  lack  of  organization  in  Ecuador 
is  generally  held  to  be  mutual  distrust.  Said  an 
educator  in  Manta,  “Ecuadorans  are  fluent  and 
effective  speakers  but  their  eloquence  means  noth- 
ing— is  mere  words.  For  all  these  fine  phrases 
they  do  not  trust  one  another.  Some  one  will 
point  out  something  greatly  needing  to  be  done 
and  all  will  be  for  forming  an  association  until 
the  critical  moment  arrives  for  paying  member- 
ship fees.  Then  they  balk.”  “These  people  dis- 
trust one  another  with  good  reason,”  observed  a 
diplomat  at  Quito.  “The  tendency  of  each  mem- 
ber of  a society  to  exploit  the  society  for  his  own 
selfish  ends  is  so  universal  that  the  Ecuadorans 
are  incapable  of  association  in  a common  work.” 
A British  diplomat  who  knows  the  continent  from 
Panama  to  Patagonia  went  so  far  as  to  declare : 
“Distrust  is  universal  here.  No  South  Ameri- 
can will  put  his  faith  in  another  South  Ameri- 
can. ’ ’ 

In  La  Paz  the  numerous  failures  of  Bolivians 
in  undertaking  to  operate  joint  stock  companies 
were  attributed  to  their  want  of  confidence  in  one 
another.  In  Chile  it  was  frequently  remarked 
that  popular  societies  usually  come  to  grief  be- 
cause each  member  is  likely  to  follow  his  personal 
interest  every  time  that  he  is  called  upon  to  choose 
between  his  personal  interest  and  the  welfare  of 
the  society.  A missionary  had  noted  that  in  or- 
ganizing a church  his  converts  preferred  to  give 


Indians  of  the  plateau  of  Ecuador 


Indians  of  Zambiza,  Ecuador 


CHARACTER  235 

the  treasurership  to  a foreigner  rather  than  to  a 
fellow-countryman. 

EXCESS  OP  PRIDE 

An  American  cannot  but  be  struck  by  the  dearth 
of  associations  among  the  university  students  in 
Lima ; no  fraternities,  no  athletic  teams,  no  social, 
literary,  debating,  press,  dramatic,  musical,  ath- 
letic or  scientific  societies  such  as  flourish  among 
the  youth  in  an  American  university.  Most  of  the 
“student  activities”  which  threaten  to  engulf 
scholarship  here  are  unknown  in  Lima.  Some  of 
the  young  men  of  San  Marcos  had  started  a 
University  paper,  but  few  students  would  buy  it 
although  many  would  read  a borrowed  copy.  It  is 
pathetic  to  witness  the  disappointment  of  earnest 
young  Peruvians  educated  in  our  universities  when 
on  returning  home  they  find  in  the  Lima  student 
body  no  class  feeling,  no  University  spirit,  no 
love  of  Alma  Mater,  no  heart-warming  reunions 
of  alumni,  and  in  general  none  of  those  forms  of 
corporate  life  which  loosen  the  hard  soil  of  natural 
egoism  and  prepare  it  to  admit  later  the  spread- 
ing roots  of  such  virtues  as  public  spirit  and  good 
citizenship. 

It  was  while  probing  a similar  state  of  affairs 
among  the  students  of  the  University  of  Arequipa 
that  I laid  bare  the  chief  obstacle  to  association 
in  the  higher  social  class.  I learned  that  these 
students  fail  in  their  endeavors  at  cooperation 
because  individually  they  will  not  compromise. 
Again  and  again  valuable  organizations  serving 


236 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


a real  common  purpose  have  been  wrecked  by  the 
touchiness  and  self-will  of  the  members.  This  in 
turn  is  due  to  an  excess  of  personal  pride,  the 
heritage  from  the  old  aristocratic  social  order. 
The  reigning  upper-class  ideals  intensify  the  self 
feeling  to  such  a point  that  it  becomes  a bar  to 
organization  and  team  work. 

Thus  students  interested  in  the  same  study  will 
not  form  a society  as  our  fellows  do.  They  will 
meet  two  or  three  in  a room  to  discuss  the  subject, 
but  never  organize.  In  Arequipa  there  is  but  one 
literary  club.  Others  have  been  started  but  after 
a brief  existence  have  expired,  not  from  lack  of 
interest  but  from  jealousies  and  dissensions 
among  the  members.  Not  long  ago  this  club  an- 
nounced an  excursion  on  a certain  day  and 
promptly  the  centro  universitario,  a student  club, 
announced  an  excursion  of  its  own  on  the  same 
day  to  the  same  place.  Naturally  the  two  parties 
met  and  there  were  high  words  followed  by  hostil- 
ities. The  failure  of  these  proud  young  men  in 
the  give-and-take  necessary  for  cooperation  drives 
home  to  an  American  the  value  of  our  democratic 
fratemalism  in  fostering  that  spirit  of  compro- 
mise in  non-essentials  which  is  indispensable  to 
good  team  work.  Sociologically  aristocracy  is,  in 
its  later  phase  at  least,  a failure. 

The  students  of  Buenos  Aires  are  nearly  as  in- 
dividualistic as  those  of  the  Peruvian  universities. 
Class  spirit  and  college  spirit  are  wanting  and 
the  students  will  not  “dig  up”  for  their  various 
societies  as  ours  will.  There  is  little  attention 


CHARACTER 


237 


paid  to  athletics,  owing  to  lack  of  organization 
rather  than  to  lack  of  interest.  What  is  probably 
the  root  of  the  trouble  came  to  light  when  my  in- 
formant remarked  that  fellows  who  play  some 
musical  instrument  are  very  shy  about  playing 
before  others,  “awfully  sensitive  to  criticism.” 
Here  again  crops  up  that  ptomaine  from  decaying 
aristocracy,  the  exaggerated  sense  of  personal 
dignity,  which  is  such  a hindrance  to  cooperation 
among  South  Americans. 

Some  years  ago  Secretary  Taft  said  at  Havana 
that  in  politics  the  peoples  to  the  south  of  us  are 
poor  losers.  Not  only  is  this  true  but  we  have 
here  one  cause  of  their  ready  resort  to  revolu- 
tion. Trouble  will  begin  after  an  election  for  the 
same  reason  that  student  societies  go  to  pieces  on 
some  trivial  question — the  losers  have  too  much 
pride  to  submit  to  defeat.  In  the  society  they 
walk  out,  hut  in  the  state  they  start  a revolt.  I 
fancy  the  introduction  of  organized  athletics  by 
promoting  the  spirit  of  good  sportsmanship  might 
have  a salutary  effect  on  the  politics  of  Spanish 
America.  In  the  earlier  football  matches  between 
the  teams  of  the  missionary  colleges  in  China,  a 
team  would  retire  from  the  field  with  great  dignity 
when  the  game  was  going  against  them  and  they 
were  in  danger  of  ‘ ‘ losing  face.  * ’ The  lesson  they 
gradually  learned  of  taking  bitter  medicine  with 
a smile  is  greatly  needed  by  the  young  men  below 
the  Equator.  Not  that  they  should  have  less 
pride,  but  that  their  pride  should  be  set  on  “being 
a good  sport,  ’ ’ rather  than  on  sulking  and  quitting. 


238 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


SELF-INDULGENCE  AND  INDOLENCE 

The  Panamanians  are  so  indolent  and  use- 
less that  some  of  the  engineers  on  the  Canal  will 
not  hire  them  under  any  circumstances.  A friend 
of  mine  noticed  in  the  Cauca  Valley  a good  field 
growing  up  to  weeds.  He  asked  the  owner  the 
reason  and  received  this  answer:  “Last  year, 
senor,  the  Lord  blessed  me  with  so  bountiful  a 
crop  that  by  the  exercise  of  strict  economy  I have 
been  able  to  dispense  with  the  cultivation  of  my 
farm  this  year.” 

One  must  visit  the  provincial  colleges  of  China 
to  see  students  with  such  poor  physical  develop- 
ment as  one  finds  in  the  universities  of  the  West 
Coast.  The  well-dressed  young  men  on  the 
streets  fill  out  their  clothes  poorly  and  impress 
one  as  on  the  whole  a weak  lot.  “In  Lima,”  said 
an  American  doctor,  “I  never  see  a good  physical 
specimen  of  a man.”  Pace  crossing  has  some- 
thing to  do  with  this  poverty  of  physique;  also 
neglect  of  hygiene,  bad  habits  and  early  vices. 
The  chief  factor,  however,  appears  to  be  a res- 
olute avoidance  of  every  form  of  bodily  exertion, 
from  labor  up  to  athletic  sports.  “It  is  almost 
impossible  to  get  four  people  together  for  a tennis 
set,”  complained  a foreigner  in  Quito.  A padre 
from  Cuenca,  an  inland  town  of  southern  Ecua- 
dor which  is  grandiloquently  known  as  “the 
Athens  of  South  America,”  just  as  Quito  is 
proudly  called  “The  City  of  Light,”  stated  that 
in  his  vicinity  the  whites  have  so  degenerated  in 


CHARACTER 


239 


consequence  of  abstention  from  labor  that  in  the 
schools  the  cholo  children  often  outstrip  the  white 
children.  Said  a Peruvian  sociologist,  “I  see  no 
hope  for  the  people  of  Lima  and  Callao.  Every- 
body I meet  who  has  come  here  from  some  other 
part  of  Peru  impresses  me  as  a superior  person. 
Lima,  a pleasure  city  with  parasitic  traditions, 
tempts  to  an  excess  of  self-indulgence  that  per- 
manently weakens  the  will.”  “In  the  whites 
here,”  said  a savant  of  Sierra  origin,  “you  find 
the  same  indolence  as  in  Spain,  the  same  scorn  of 
industry.  The  ignorance  of  housekeeping  of  the 
ladies  here  is  unbelievable.  As  for  the  gentle- 
men their  sole  aim  is  to  get  a government  job, 
which  is  virtually  a sinecure.” 

Manuel  Vincente  Ballivian,  Bolivia’s  “grand 
old  man,”  sees  clearly  the  cause  of  the  palsy 
that  binds  the  energies  of  the  one  per  cent, 
or  less  of  the  Spanish  remaining  in  the  popula- 
tion of  Bolivia.  Excel  they  may  in  brain  power, 
but  they  are  of  little  social  value  owing  to 
the  disdain  of  exertion  descended  to  them  from 
their  colonial  forbears.  The  head  of  a girls’ 
liceo  observed  that  the  girls  come  to  her  quite  un- 
fit for  steady  work,  because  they  have  never  been 
required  to  exercise  such  self-control  as  close 
study  implies.  Nor  can  they  stand  being  held 
strictly  to  their  duties,  or  bear  reproof.  The 
mother,  too,  is  easygoing  and  thinks  nothing  of 
keeping  her  daughter  out  of  the  liceo  a day  in 
order  to  have  her  company  shopping.  Such 
people  are  as  soft  as  a mollusk  out  of  its  shell, 


240  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

and  only  slowly  can  they  acquire  some  firmness  of 
character. 

The  mestizo  has  the  name  of  being  lazy  by  na- 
ture and  it  may  be  that  he  really  lacks  the  vitality 
of  either  of  the  parent  races.  The  Indians,  on  the 
other  hand,  having  none  of  the  white  man’s  false 
pride,  retain  their  old  industriousness.  In  the 
schools  of  Lima  the  swarthy  youths  from  the 
mountain  villages  often  do  better  than  the  scions 
of  old  Lima  families,  not  from  superior  ability 
but  because  they  are  earnest  and  not  ashamed  to 
work  hard.  What  holds  the  natives  back  is  not 
aversion  to  labor  but  discouragement — the  para- 
lyzing reflection:  “After  all,  what ’s  the  use?” 
They  do  not  look  upon  the  government  as  “our 
government,”  and  at  every  point  of  contact  with 
the  powerful  they  find  the  dice  loaded  against 
them.  What  must  be  the  effect,  for  example,  of 
the  incessant  absorption  by  force  or  by  fraud  of 
the  small  holdings  of  the  Indians  of  the  Sierra 
by  the  owners  of  the  great  haciendas  ? The  courts 
fail  to  protect  the  property  rights  of  the  poor 
natives  because  too  often  the  judge  is  the  land- 
owner  himself  or  his  friend.  In  Bolivia  certain 
self-governing  Indian  communities  hold  tracts  of 
good  land  by  ancient  grant  and  parcel  it  out 
among  their  members.  But  bit  by  bit  it  is  being 
nibbled  away  by  their  powerful  neighbors  and 
there  is  no  other  land  they  might  acquire  to  make 
up  for  their  losses.  No  wonder  these  Indians  hate 
the  whites  to  such  a degree  that  they  refuse  to  sell 
them  anything! 


CHARACTER 


241 


Or  consider  the  system  discovered  by  the  Liga 
pro  Indigena.  A sub-prefect  is  ordered  to  furnish 
from  a certain  place  four  recruits  for  the  army. 
He  gathers  up  all  the  young  men  and  each  thinks 
he  is  to  be  taken  for  two  years  of  military  service. 
Now,  they  dread  this  service  because  they  will 
suffer  terribly  from  homesickness  and  because 
the  conscripts  taken  down  to  the  Coast  are  very 
liable  to  contract  tuberculosis.  So  when  the 
Indian  is  told  that  for  $25  he  will  be  let  off  this 
year  he  is  very  willing  to  sign  a contract  to  work 
for  the  kind  hacendado  who  offers  to  advance  him 
the  $25.  The  sub-prefect  lines  his  pocket  with  the 
price  of  the  Indian’s  industrial  servitude  and  a 
year  later  his  victim  may  be  called  in  and  shaken 
down  again. 

In  Chile  Spanish  disdain  of  labor  was  matched 
by  the  laziness  of  the  Araucanian  savage  who  left 
all  work  to  the  women.  But  the  bracing  climate, 
the  habit  of  country  life  and  the  continuous  in- 
fusion of  North  European  blood  have  saved  the 
upper  classes  from  the  dry  rot  of  indolence,  while 
the  masses  inherit  a bodily  vigor  and  an  emulative 
spirit  which  make  them  splendid  workers  when 
there  is  due  incentive.  In  the  words  of  a ship 
captain,  “Pay  the  Chilean  by  the  day  and  you  get 
little.  Pay  him  by  the  job  and  it  makes  you  sweat 
to  look  at  him.  ’ ’ In  Chile  ideals  are  not  radically 
unsound  as  they  are  in  the  North.  Complete 
popular  education  coupled  with  a good  economic 
order  would  suffice  to  unleash  the  energies  of  the 
neglected  common  people  of  Chile. 


242 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


In  the  provincial  towns  of  Argentina  the  old 
creole  contempt  for  work  survives  and  you  may 
meet  men  who,  like  the  Orientals,  let  the  nail  of 
the  little  finger  grow  very  long.  But  a new  spirit 
is  abroad.  Both  the  love  of  gain  and  the  demo- 
cratic respect  for  labor  are  encroaching  upon  the 
worship  of  do-nothing.  That  a third  of  the  men 
are  industrious  European  immigrants  and  that 
this  element  constantly  gains  on  the  other  seems 
to  make  certain  the  disappearance  of  the  old  false 
pride. 

This  is  not  to  say  that  idealism  reigns.  The 
spirit  of  the  new  society  is  pleasure-loving.  “Let 
us  eat,  drink  and  be  merry  for  to-morrow  we  die,” 
expresses  the  prevailing  mood.  There  is  an  ac- 
tive patriotism  of  the  flag-wagging,  jingoistic  type, 
but  not  much  self-sacrificing  love  of  country.  It 
is  said  that  when  there  are  signs  of  trouble  the 
distinguidos  of  Buenos  Aires  simply  decamp 
across  the  river  to  Uruguay  and  safety.  The  old 
Spanish  element,  which  possessed  firm  character 
and  much  idealism,  is  being  swamped  by  the 
freshet  of  immigrants  brought  together  by  very 
commonplace  motives.  In  the  capital  three- 
fourths  of  the  births  are  in  families  of  the  foreign 
born.  Sensitiveness  to  praise  and  blame  is  keen, 
and  public  opinion  is  a powerful  molder  of  con- 
duct. The  humane  spirit  is  ascendant  and  the 
new  standards  it  inspires  emerge  and  harden 
under  your  eyes.  The  code  of  honor  in  public  life 
has  stiffened  much  since  President  Celman’s  time 
and  a proven  crook  is  more  promptly  and  relent- 


CHARACTER 


243 


lessly  driven  out.  Nevertheless,  strong  character 
and  a dominating  sense  of  duty  are  relatively 
rare  and  only  time  and  stress  will  give  idealism 
here  the  long  and  tough  roots  it  has  among  certain 
of  the  older  peoples. 

WANT  OF  PERSISTENCE 

The  more  masterful  Americans  regard  the 
Colombians  as  children  and  will  not  take  them  very 
seriously.  In  Ecuador,  Peru  and  Bolivia  there 
is  much  complaint  that  the  young  men  “won’t 
stick  to  anything  difficult.  ’ ’ A missionary  in  Lima 
told  how  in  his  early  years  there  he  gladly  taught 
classes  in  English  in  order  to  gain  an  opening, 
but  that  later  he  gave  it  up  in  disgust  as  a waste 
of  his  time.  “There  is  hardly  a young  fellow 
here,”  he  declared,  “who  hasn’t  made  two  or 
three  starts  to  learn  English  and  every  time  given 
it  up.”  An  American  superintendent  of  schools 
cited  the  numerous  buildings,  especially  school 
buildings,  never  completed  and  used,  as  proof  of 
Peruvian  instability  of  purpose,  and  added:  “But 
I ’ve  got  several  hundred  of  my  school  boys  play- 
ing football  and  before  long  there ’s  going  to  be  a 
generation  of  young  fellows  who  ’ll  despise  bull- 
fighting and  scorn  a ‘quitter.’  ” Said  a German 
educator  in  an  inland  town,  “These  people  have 
no  shame  about  giving  up.  The  young  men  get 
enthusiastic  over  a thing  at  first,  but  soon  lose 
interest.  There ’s  not  a department  of  life  in 
which  they  have  learned  to  put  forth  sustained 
effort.”  In  another  provincial  center  the  Ameri- 


244 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


can  educator  reported  that  twenty  young  Peru- 
vians would  enter  his  twice-a-week  class  in  Eng- 
lish, but  not  more  than  two  would  stick  to  the  end 
of  the  year. 

The  Bolivians  are  not  strong  on  seeing  a thing 
through.  They  lay  with  great  pomp  the  corner- 
stone of  a monument,  then  neglect  to  build  it.  I 
was  assured  that  outside  of  La  Paz,  which  has  be- 
come sensitive  on  this  matter,  there  are  many  un- 
finished monuments.  A Cochabamba  missionary 
averred  that  nearly  a score  of  times  he  had  started 
classes  of  young  men  keen  on  learning  English,  but 
that  nearly  all  had  dropped  out  within  six  weeks. 
Only  two  had  hung  on  until  they  could  speak  some 
English.  He,  too,  had  been  struck  by  the  fre- 
quency of  unfinished  residences,  some  of  which 
had  been  standing  for  years.  An  Oruro  mission- 
ary had  likewise  observed  that  the  Bolivians  are 
good  beginners  but  poor  finishers,  enthusiastic  in 
taking  up  a thing  but  without  the  strength  of  char- 
acter needed  to  carry  it  out.  His  converts  are 
“very  wobbly,”  easily  moved  toward  the  good  but 
just  as  easily  turned  away  from  it.  Each  year  his 
mission  gains'  and  loses  hundreds  of  people. 
With  the  Catholic  priest  they  are  just  as  wobbly 
and  undependable  as  with  the  Protestant  mission- 
ary. Classes  in  English  shrink  terribly  after 
about  three  months,  and  in  his  district  there  are 
houses  and  monuments  which  stand  year  after 
year  unfinished.  To  the  same  infirmity  of  charac- 
ter he  attributes  the  evasion  of  marriage  and  the 
want  of  constancy  in  the  cholo  couples. 


My  guide,  little  “Toniel  Boy  with  a carga  of  bananas,  Cali 


CHARACTER 


247 


Some  thoughtful  observers  attribute  the  ascend- 
ancy of  La  Paz  in  Bolivia  to  the  fact  that  it  is  the 
center  of  the  Aymara  element,  which  in  point  of 
character  is  stronger  by  far  than  the  Kechuas. 
The  latter  were  the  sustainers  of  the  Inca  civiliza- 
tion, and  it  is  suggested  that  their  long  subjection 
to  the  patriarchal  regime  of  the  Incas  had  the 
effect  of  taking  the  iron  out  of  their  blood.  The 
strong-willed  and  variant  individuals  sooner  or 
later  bumped  up  against  the  established  order  and 
came  to  grief,  while  the  pliant  and  docile  survived 
and  multiplied.  Certain  it  is  that  the  will  of  the 
Kechua  is  strong  only  in  a passive  way.  He  is 
tenacious  and  persistent  but  not  aggressive.  Of- 
ficers say  that  he  makes  a good  soldier,  enduring 
under  hardship,  faithful,  docile  and  obedient. 
Well  trained  he  will  lay  down  his  life  obeying 
orders,  but  he  is  no  such  wild-cat  fighter  as  the 
Chilean.  As  a worker  he  is  patient  but  lacks  in- 
itiative. 

In  Chile  one  hears  little  complaint  of  weakness 
of  character.  The  stubborn  and  indomitable 
Mapuches  transmitted  plenty  of  iron  to  their  lat- 
ter-day descendants.  Then,  too,  the  pure  white 
element  has  been  numerous  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  uphold  certain  standards  and  to  set 
the  example  of  living  up  to  them.  In  both  Chile 
and  Argentina  the  pace-setting  class  is  distinctly 
less  strenuous  than  English,  German  or  Ameri- 
can, but  one  sees  nothing  of  unfinished  buildings 
and  monuments  and  never  hears  the  sneer  of 
“quitter.” 


248 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


NATURE  OR  NURTURE  ? 

Is  the  observed  weakness  of  character  in  the 
mixed  bloods  of  tropical  South  America  charge- 
able to  heredity  or  to  environment?  Nothing 
would  throw  so  much  light  on  the  future  of  these 
peoples  as  the  answer  to  this  riddle.  Alas!  we 
are  not  sure  who  holds  the  key.  One  German  ed- 
ucator after  four  years’  experience  will  say,  “The 
superficiality  and  moral  flabbiness  of  my  boys 
cannot  be  laid  to  want  of  training  or  to  the  defects 
of  their  elementary  education.  There  is  constitu- 
tional weakness  here.  The  crossing  of  races  has 
produced  a chaotic,  unstable,  nervous  organiza- 
tion, resulting  in  a type  at  war  with  itself.”  On 
the  other  hand,  another  German  of  longer  expe- 
rience has  completely  given  up  his  former  as- 
sumption of  the  congenital  inferiority  of  the  mes- 
tizo. 

One  wise  old  savant  of  La  Paz  insists  that  the 
mestizos  in  ability  stand  somewhere  between  the 
two  parent  races,  and  that  the  more  white  blood 
there  is  in  them  the  cleverer  they  are.  But  his 
fellow  townsman,  a judge  and  the  author  of  a 
number  of  admirable  studies  in  Bolivian  socio- 
logy, concluded  wholly  from  his  wide  observation 
that  the  mestizo  is  by  nature  physically,  morally 
and  intellectually  weaker  than  either  Spaniards 
or  Indians,  that  the  weakness  increases  the  further 
you  are  from  the  original  crossing  and  that  noth- 
ing can  redeem  this  element,  which  has  involved 
all  but  a handful  of  the  whites,  from  its  laziness, 


CHARACTER  249 

its  want  of  imagination  and  its  feebleness  of 
thought. 

One  missionary,  after  bringing  to  bear  the 
supreme  religious  influences  at  his  command  and 
producing  converts  who  have  little  in  common 
with  converts  from  a strong  pure  race  like  the 
Chinese,  concludes  that  the  weakness  of  character 
of  these  mestizos  is  inherent  and  can  never  be 
outgrown.  Another  missionary,  however,  a cou- 
ple of  hundred  miles  away,  after  noticing  the  same 
faults  in  his  people,  attributes  them  to  the  glar- 
ing deficiencies  of  their  upbringing  and  educa- 
tion, to  the  flimsiness  of  the  religion  they  have 
been  reared  in  and  to  their  lack  of  the  discipline 
of  organization. 

The  author  believes  that  both  schools  have  some 
of  the  truth,  but  the  environment  school  is 
nearer  right.  Heredity  is  a cheap  offhand  ex- 
planation of  the  characteristics  of  a people  at  a 
given  moment,  but  how  is  it  that  continually 
characteristics  change  when  there  has  been  no 
change  in  heredity?  The  observed  traits  of 
French,  Germans  and  English  to-day  are  by  no 
means  the  same  as  the  traits  they  manifested 
about  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Many  of 
the  faults  of  contemporary  South  American 
character  can  easily  be  duplicated  from  the  history 
of  our  own  people.  To-day  we  succeed  in  mak- 
ing certain  virtues  fairly  general  among  ourselves 
because  gradually  our  society  has  equipped  itself 
with  the  home  training,  the  education,  the  religion, 
the  ideals  of  life,  the  standards  of  conduct  and 


250 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  public  opinion  competent  to  produce  these 
virtues.  Societies  that  lack  the  right  soul  molds 
will  of  course  fail  to  obtain  these  virtues.  But 
there  is  no  reason  why  they  may  not  borrow  such 
molds  from  the  more  experienced  societies,  just 
as  we  ourselves  have  sometimes  done. 

Let  me  clinch  this  point  by  the  observations  of 
the  American  head  of  a large  secondary  school 
in  Chile.  He  said  in  effect,  “After  all  the  stress 
I have  laid  on  veracity  these  hoys  will  lie.  The 
girls  cheat  shamelessly  in  examinations.  Our  at- 
tempt to  apply  the  honor  system  proved  a flat 
failure,  for  the  pupils  cheated  unanimously.” 
One  might  imagine  himself  on  the  track  of  a race 
characteristic  until  he  added:  “The  boys  of  Eng- 
lish or  American  parents  lie  just  as  freely  as  the 
others.”  So  after  all  the  trouble  is  not  race  hut 
something  in  the  moral  atmosphere.  The  educa- 
tor believed  that  something  to  be  the  Jesuitical 
doctrine  that  the  end  justifies  the  means  and  that 
an  untruth  is  all  right,  if  it  is  serving  a good  cause. 


Laguna  Fria 


CHAPTER  X 


EDUCATION 

POPULAR  education  in  a people  saturated 
with  the  traditions  of  the  old  Spanish  co- 
lonial regime  is  like  a plant  in  an  alkali  soil.  The 
benighted  hewers  of  wood  and  drawers  of  water 
do  not  desire  education,  because  they  do  not  see 
that  it  will  help  their  children  to  earn  more  than 
their  fathers,  or  that  it  will  lead  them  up  into 
occupations  and  rewards  reserved  for  the  higher 
social  class.  The  higher  class  certainly  desire 
education  for  their  own  children — how  else  should 
they  be  trained  for  public  life  or  fitted  to  follow 
the  learned  professions  ? — but  they  never  think  of 
education  as  a means  of  diffusing  opportunity 
throughout  all  classes.  That,  decidedly,  is  not 
their  program. 

For  the  children  of  the  peons  the  Church  desires 
no  education  other  than  that  drill  in  the  rudi- 
ments of  her  faith  which  she  herself  provides. 
Secular  education  will  not  promote  their  eternal 
welfare  and  it  may  endanger  it.  That  education 
should  give  them  a chance  to  rise  in  life  does  not 
appeal  to  her.  What  is  “rising  in  life”  com- 
pared with  saving  the  soul?  Let  the  children  of 
the  well-to-do  be  trained  to  fill  worthily  those 

253 


254 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


high  and  comfortable  places  in  life  to  which  it 
has  pleased  God  to  call  them,  while  the  children 
of  the  peons  continue  their  fathers’  labors. 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  gospel  of  universal 
education  has  never  germinated  in  the  South 
American  people.  It  has  always  been  an  exotic 
introduced  from  abroad  by  idealists  and  social 
reformers.  It  has  entered  the  country  via  the 
capital  and  has  won  the  national  legislature  be- 
fore it  agitated  the  councilors  of  the  interior 
towns.  This  is  why  in  South  America  public  ed- 
ucation is  centralized  to  a degree  that  astonishes 
a North  American.  Its  administration  from  the 
capital  gives  the  handful  of  enlightened  reformers 
at  the  political  apex  of  the  nation  the  leverage 
they  need.  Local  option  in  education,  or  even 
local  control,  would  in  the  remoter  parts  of  the 
country  spell  apathy  and  prolong  the  reign  of 
darkness  in  the  social  deeps.  State  initiative  is 
the  only  means  of  bringing  about  a general  up- 
lift. 

It  is  not  easy  for  us  to  realize  how  many  power- 
ful interests  in  a South  American  country  are 
pouring  sand  on  the  axles  of  educational  prog- 
ress. The  Liberals  may  enact  their  school  law  but 
it  is  quite  another  thing  to  plant  public  elementary 
schools.  The  owners  of  the  estates  sell  all  their 
product  at  its  world-market  price,  but  they  buy 
their  labor  at  an  arbitrary  figure  far  below  its 
true  market  worth.  They  tie  the  peon  with  debt 
so  that  he  must  accept  whatever  they  allow  him. 
They  defraud  him  because  he  is  too  ignorant  to 


EDUCATION 


255 


reckon  the  amount  of  his  debt  to  the  amo  or  to 
check  up  the  account  of  his  purchases  at  the  amo’s 
store.  Unable  to  read  he  learns  nothing  of  his 
legal  rights  or  of  better  chances  in  other  jobs. 
Hence,  it  is  a part  of  the  master’s  game  to  keep 
knowledge  from  his  peons  in  order  that  they  may 
remain  helpless,  unambitious  and  submissive  to 
the  master’s  will.  How  otherwise  shall  he  be  able 
to  send  Manuel  to  a Paris  lycee  or  Carmen  to  a 
Quebec  convent?  Of  course,  in  these  humanita- 
rian days  the  masters  conceal  the  nakedness  of 
their  avarice  under  a decent  drapery  of  phrases, 
insisting  that  schooling  will  “spoil”  the  children 
of  the  peon,  give  them  “foolish  notions”  or  make 
them  “feel  above  their  work.” 

Bear  in  mind,  too,  that  the  illiterate  peon  whose 
title  to  the  suffrage  is  his  ability  to  trace  the  let- 
ters of  his  name  is  likely  to  vote  with  a simple- 
minded  faith  in  the  political  advice  of  his  amo. 
Is  it  likely  that  the  master  will  care  to  have  such 
child-like  trust  disturbed? 

In  Chile  the  ordinary  landed  proprietors  are 
said  to  look  with  disfavor  upon  popular  schools 
lest  thereby  the  children  of  the  inquilino  grow 
up  demanding,  or  restless  and  migrant.  They 
want  the  son  to  stay  on  in  his  father’s  mud  hut, 
content  with  the  old  wage  and  the  old  hard,  rough 
life,  attached  to  the  hacienda  and  its  master  and 
deaf  to  the  call  of  opportunity  elsewhere.  As 
one  put  it,  “We  don’t  want  the  children  of  our 
inquilinos  disturbed  in  their  minds.”  In  gen- 
eral both  master  and  man  agree  that  the  children 


256 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


of  the  poor  ought  to  follow  the  father’s  calling 
and  that  to  aspire  is  a piece  of  presumption. 

The  Church  loves  public  schools  as  little  as  the 
master,  but  for  reasons  of  her  own.  The  priest 
wants  the  peons  ignorant  in  order  that  he  may 
preserve  his  authority  over  them,  keep  their  feet 
from  straying  from  the  path  of  eternal  salvation 
and  be  relieved  from  the  necessity  of  defending 
his  doctrines,  combating  heresies  and  meeting 
the  competition  of  the  Protestant  missionary. 
If,  however,  education  must  come,  the  Church 
wants  to  provide  it  herself  in  her  own  parish 
school,  where,  as  a clerical  editor  put  it  to  me 
“religion  saturates  the  entire  course  of  study.” 

Outside  the  towns  the  parents  generally  are  too 
ignorant  to  recognize  the  burden  of  their  igno- 
rance. They  feel  about  schooling  as  we  should  if 
for  two  years  our  children  were  taken  from  us 
every  day  to  study  cuneiform  inscriptions.  The 
law  may  command  attendance  but,  as  a consul  put 
it,  “If  the  parent  protests  that  the  earnings  of  the 
child  in  shucking  ivory  nuts  are  needed,  what  can 
the  authorities  say?”  Consider,  too,  that  many 
children  are  waifs,  unknown  to  their  father  and 
neglected  by  their  mother  if  she  has  children  by 
another  man,  so  that  there  is  no  one  to  send  them 
to  school. 

The  Indians  of  the  Sierra  have  no  use  for  edu- 
cation. They  say  that  reading  and  writing  makes 
one  a rascal  because  in  fact  the  clever,  schooled 
Indian  has  often  turned  shyster  and  used  his 
knowledge  of  letters  to  trick  and  exploit  his  illit- 


Courtesy  o!  Or.  W.  F.  Bailey 

Street  Scene,  near  Cerro-de- Pasco,  Peru 


Courtesy  oi  Dr.  W.  F.  Bailey 


La  Fundicion,  Peru 


.-  . 1 


EDUCATION 


259 


erate  fellows.  Like  the  educated  Crow  or  Apache 
who  used  to  revert  to  the  blanket  after  returning 
from  the  government  school  to  the  tepees  of  his 
tribe,  the  Kechua  youth  who  has  completed  the 
colegio  in  some  provincial  capital  of  Peru  soon 
“goes  Fantee”  after  he  returns  to  live  among  his 
people.  He  reverts  to  their  ways  without  having 
in  the  least  benefited  them.  As  for  the  little  fel- 
low who  learned  to  read  Spanish  during  his  two 
years  in  school,  he  soon  forgets  it  all  living  among 
people  who  speak  only  Kechua.  “The  problem 
of  the  Indians,”  said  to  me  a University  rector, 
“is  not  to  be  met  by  schooling  a few  individuals, 
but  by  educating  the  whole  mass  by  means  of  an 
elementary  school  with  strong  industrial  emphasis 
planted  in  every  Indian  community.  ’ ’ 

In  Chile  the  country-dwellers  care  little  for  the 
education  of  their  children  and  many  will  let  their 
urchins  run  wild  rather  than  keep  them  in  school. 
After  the  twelfth  year  they  are  liable  to  be  taken 
out  of  school,  the  boys  in  preference  to  the  girls, 
because  their  help  is  more  needed.  The  town 
people  are  more  willing  to  let  the  school  have  their 
children. 


ELEMENTARY  EDUCATION 

Given  such  conditions,  we  ought  to  be  neither 
surprised  nor  self-complacent  to  find  the  state  of 
popular  education  very  backward.  According  to 
the  Colombian  census  about  one  person  in  twenty- 
two  is  attending  a public  school.  In  Ecuador  one 
in  sixteen  is  enrolled  in  school.  There  are  some 


260 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


800,000  Indians  in  Ecuador  in  a population  of  a 
million  and  a half.  Most  observers  declare  that 
the  children  are  getting  no  schooling  at  all.  One 
man  thought  that  perhaps  a quarter  of  the  chil- 
dren of  the  peons  might  be  receiving  instruction. 
The  law  requires  the  master  having  ten  or  more 
families  of  laborers  on  his  estate  to  maintain  a 
school  for  them,  but  the  law  is  not  always  ob- 
served. Many  families  live  quite  too  scattered 
for  their  children  to  be  brought  together  every 
day.  It  might  require  a hundred  square  miles  to 
furnish  enough  children  to  make  a school. 

Half  the  people  in  Peru  are  Indians,  while  three- 
fourths  of  the  other  half  are  mestizos.  No  won- 
der that  out  of  900,000  children  of  school  age  not 
over  eighteen  per  cent,  are  in  school.  Peru  gets 
about  15,000  annually  through  the  elementary 
school,  which  covers  two  years  of  instruction  and 
is  compulsory.  The  recent  Educational  Commis- 
sion of  Peru  estimated  that  two-fifths  of  the  chil- 
dren live  in  districts  so  remote  or  under  such  con- 
ditions that  the  State  cannot  hope  to  reach  them 
at  all.  In  the  next  higher  type  of  public  school — 
comprising  the  third,  fourth  and  fifth  grades — the 
enrolment  out  of  a population  as  large  as  that  of 
Missouri  or  Texas  is  5000,  2000  and  1000  respec- 
tively. In  1910  only  480  pupils  completed  the  fifth 
year  of  work.  One  must  bear  in  mind  that  the 
children  of  the  well-to-do  are  not  in  such  schools 
but  in  private  schools  maintained  by  the  various 
teaching  orders  of  the  Church. 

In  Bolivia  it  takes  forty  or  forty-five  people  to 


EDUCATION 


261 


furnish  one  child  attending  a public  school.  It  is 
interesting  to  find  that  the  State  tries  to  dispel 
the  darkness  in  which  the  country  population  lives 
by  sending  out  circuit-riding  schoolmasters,  who 
go  about  from  village  to  village  holding  in  each  a 
brief  term  of  school. 

In  planting  schools  Chile  has  not  had  to  contend 
with  great  natural  obstacles  like  those  of  the 
countries  to  the  north  of  her.  It  gives  one  there- 
fore a vivid  sense  of  the  aristocratic  spirit  of  the 
Government  of  Chile  to  find  that  there  are  only 
3026  public  elementary  schools,  whereas  ten  thou- 
sand are  needed  in  order  to  accommodate  the 
700,000  children  of  school  age.  Only  300,000  chil- 
dren are  enrolled  in  elementary  schools,  of  which 
number  perhaps  50,000  are  in  parish  schools 
maintained  by  the  Church.  The  existing  public 
schools  are  full  and  children  have  to  be  turned 
away.  The  sense  of  responsibility  a Conservative 
Government  feels  for  the  education  of  the  masses 
may  be  gauged  from  the  remark  made  to  me  by  a 
ranchman  of  Chilian:  “Popular  education  has 

made  great  advances  in  twenty  years.  Now  the 
Government  will  give  you  a teacher  for  the  chil- 
dren of  your  inquilinos  provided  that  you  supply 
the  schoolhouse  and  board  and  lodge  the  school- 
master.” 

To  a democrat  the  interesting  thing  is  that,  al- 
though the  State  maintains  fine  high  schools 
(liceos),  the  public  elementary  school  does  not  lead 
up  to  the  high  school  at  all.  To  get  your  children 
ready  for  the  liceo  you  must  pay  tuition  for  them 


262 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


in  some  private  school.  Here  you  have  the  kind 
of  school  system  aristocracy  likes:  liceos  leading 
on  up  into  the  University,  both  supplied  at  the 
public  expense,  hut  no  ladder  provided  by  which 
the  children  of  the  poor  may  climb  into  the  free 
state  system ; so  that  its  benefits  are  reserved  for 
the  children  of  the  well-to-do  who  can  pay  for  a 
ladder.  As  for  the  free  common  schools  they  are 
an  afterthought,  do  not  connect  with  the  state  sys- 
tem above  and  do  not  impair  the  monopoly  of  gov- 
ernment and  of  all  the  higher  occupations  which 
the  upper  class  enjoys  and  hopes  to  transmit  to  its 
children. 

Thanks  to  the  influence  of  the  famous  Sarmi- 
ento,  school  teacher,  friend  of  Horace  Mann,  and 
afterward  President,  Argentina  has  developed  its 
education  along  more  democratic  lines.  A tenth 
of  the  population  are  to  be  found  in  the  elementary 
schools,  about  half  the  proportion  for  the  United 
States.  The  reason  for  this  deficiency  in  enrol- 
ment is  said  to  be  not  so  much  the  indifference  of 
parents,  as  the  lack  of  accessible  schools.  By  law 
every  twenty  children  are  entitled  to  have  a school 
but  with  population  so  sparse  not  always  can  the 
necessary  twenty  be  found. 

Then,  too,  just  as  with  us,  colonies  of  South 
European  peasants  are  not  always  eager  for 
schools.  I was  told  of  a prosperous  small-farm 
district  in  the  long-settled  province  of  Santa  Fe, 
colonized  a generation  ago  by  Piedmontese. 
They  have  become  so  wealthy  and  distrust  the 
banks  so  much  that  they  actually  pay  their  trust- 


Women’s  dining  room.  Immigrant  station,  Buenos  Aires 


Immigrant  station  and  adjacent  gardens,  Buenos  Aires 


EDUCATION 


265 


iest  compatriot  four  per  cent,  per  annum  to  take 
care  of  their  money  for  them.  Nevertheless,  rural 
schools  are  said  to  be  conspicuous  by  their  ab- 
sence. 

The  Governor  of  Cordoba  showed  me  architect’s 
plans  for  a portable  wooden  building  combining 
under  one  roof  the  school  and  the  master’s  resi- 
dence. He  hopes  to  lay  out  a million  dollars  in 
providing  the  province  with  a large  number  of 
such  buildings  which  can  be  set  up  in  rural  dis- 
tricts and  removed  elsewhere  when  the  time  comes 
for  permanent  school  buildings. 

The  backwardness  of  some  provinces  has 
prompted  the  Federal  Government  to  plant  ele- 
mentary schools  of  its  own  where  there  appeared 
to  be  great  need  of  them.  Sixteen  hundred  such 
national  schools  exist  and  plans  are  afoot  to  in- 
crease their  number  to  five  thousand.  Since  the 
nation  pays  more  than  twice  the  salary  of  the 
province  it  has  the  pick  of  the  teachers,  and  since 
its  schools  are  planted  where  facilities  are  lacking 
the  country  gets  the  national  school  rather  than 
the  city.  Thus  it  may  happen  that  rural  children 
are  better  taught  than  the  town  children.  As  was 
to  be  expected,  the  planting  of  national  schools  has 
not  always  resulted  in  more  schools.  A province 
may  be  pauperized  as  well  as  an  individual. 
Sometimes  the  province  closed  its  own  school  and 
diverted  the  money  to  other  purposes.  In  some 
cases,  I was  assured,  the  Federal  Government 
simply  took  over  the  staff  and  outfit  of  the  exist- 
ing provincial  school,  so  that  all  that  happened 


266 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


was  a shifting  of  the  burden  of  support.  Others 
maintain  that  the  entrance  of  Buenos  Aires  into 
the  field  brought  real  aid  to  popular  education. 

BUILDINGS 

One  reason  public  education  lacks  in  South 
America  the  large  impressiveness  it  has  elsewhere 
is  the  absence  of  proper  school  buildings.  Most 
of  the  schools  are  held  in  dwelling  houses  often  ill- 
suited  to  such  use.  In  Ecuador  all  the  schools  are 
said  to  be  in  rented  quarters  either  unadapted  or 
but  slightly  adapted  to  school  purposes.  Less 
than  a third  of  the  1900  places  used  for  public  edu- 
cation in  Peru  are  owmed  by  the  State.  I doubt  if 
half  of  this  third  were  built  to  be  schools.  All  the 
seventeen  public  schools  in  Arequipa  are  in  rented 
private  houses.  The  only  playground  is  the  bare 
court  and  in  a patio  ten  yards  square  I saw  ninety 
children  trying  to  frolic.  In  one  windowless  room 
about  eight  yards  by  four,  lit  only  by  two  door- 
ways that  gave  upon  the  corridor  about  the  patio, 
were  sixty  tots  sitting  three  to  a seat.  The  wall 
paper  hung  in  tatters  and  the  worn  and  hummocky 
brick  floor  exhaled  dust  at  every  step.  In  an- 
other school  room  the  seats  were  full  and  a dozen 
bairns  perched  on  a board  along  the  wall  propped 
on  stones.  The  ventilation  of  these  family 
chambers  used  as  school  rooms  may  be  imagined. 

In  Bolivia  and  Chile  school  men  assured  me  that 
most  of  the  schools  are  conducted  in  rented  prem- 
ises and  the  same  seems  to  be  true  of  Argentina. 
In  Rosario  I found  that  many  schools  are  held  in 


EDUCATION 


267 


private  houses,  although  there  is  talk  that  the 
province  is  about  to  build  two  hundred  school 
buildings  at  a cost  of  four  million  dollars.  The 
secondary  schools  in  South  America  are  not  much 
better  off  than  the  primary,  for,  as  a rule,  the 
colegio  or  liceo  is  housed  in  an  old  convent  or  the 
mansion  of  some  decayed  family. 

TEACHERS 

In  Colombia  the  State  turns  over  much  of  its 
school  money  to  religious  orders  like  the  Francis- 
cans and  the  Marists,  which  devote  themselves  to 
teaching.  Lately  the  State  is  establishing  normal 
schools  where  students  entering  at  the  age  of 
twelve  or  fourteen  are  for  four  years  lodged,  fed 
and  taught  on  condition  of  serving  after  gradua- 
tion at  least  two  years  as  teachers.  Ecuador  is 
practically  without  trained  teachers  and  not  one 
person  connected  with  the  department  of  public  in- 
struction has  had  professional  training.  A dozen 
years  ago  the  Government  established  a boys’  nor- 
mal school  and  one  for  girls  at  Quito,  but  so  far 
their  output  is  scanty  and  has  contributed  little  to 
improve  teaching.  Neither  school  is  in  charge  of  a 
person  with  normal  training.  Ecuador  teachers 
are  poorly  paid  and  sometimes  not  paid  at  all. 
The  soldier  is  the  first  servant  of  the  State  to  get 
his  pay  and  the  teacher,  being  harmless,  the  last. 
One  hears  heartrending  stories  of  the  distress  of 
unpaid  teachers. 

In  Lima  the  State  maintains  a normal  school  for 
men  and  one  for  women.  The  latter,  established 


268 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


in  1878,  in  an  old  Jesuit  convent,  had  for  a long 
time  only  a few  pupils.  Now  it  is  training  105 
girls  appointed  from  the  various  departments  of 
Peru.  The  normalists,  in  charge  of  the  Sisters, 
are  lodged  and  fed  free  and  in  the  dormitory  each 
girl  is  provided  with  her  brass-top  bed  and  sta- 
tionary marble  wash-basin  in  a dainty  cubicle 
formed  by  white  muslin  curtains.  The  teachers 
lay  stress  on  the  practical  spirit  of  their  curricu- 
lum and  one  does  see  lovely  things  made  by  the 
students  of  drawing,  modeling,  painting,  leath- 
erwork,  carving,  embroidery  and  crocheting — 
nothing  useful,  however.  In  aristocratic  thought 
the  useful  is  degrading,  so  the  girls  learn  lace  mak- 
ing but  not  plain  sewing  and  darning.  In  the 
cooking  class  the  girls  may  learn  to  make  a cake, 
but  to  bake  bread?  Never! 

The  graduates  of  this  school  are  in  great  de- 
mand in  their  home  districts  and  all  have  places. 
The  Peruvian  young  woman,  however,  is  timid  and 
does  not  move  about  freely ; so  it  is  almost  impos- 
sible to  induce  the  normalists  to  go  away  from 
home  out  into  the  country  districts  where  they  are 
most  needed.  The  inspector  in  Arequipa  is  try- 
ing to  mobilize  the  graduates  of  the  local  normal 
school  by  refusing  to  recommend  them  for  town 
positions  until  they  have  served  in  country 
schools.  As  yet  normalists  are  few  and  most 
Peruvian  teachers  are  untrained.  In  Lima  the 
teaching  positions  go  much  by  favor  and  places 
will  be  held  by  women  of  good  family  who  have 


Summit  lull,  Llspiilluta. 


EDUCATION  271 

never  gone  beyond  the  seven-year  elementary 
school  or  opened  a book  on  pedagogy. 

The  Peruvian  youth  fights  shy  of  the  teaching 
profession,  seeing  no  career  in  it.  The  State 
being  the  sole  employer  of  teachers,  the  normalist 
who  falls  into  disfavor  with  the  Education  De- 
partment is  ruined.  Then  there  is  the  blight  of 
politics.  The  department  has  sixty-six  well-paid 
inspectorships  at  its  disposal  and,  if  these  were 
reserved  for  successful  normal  graduates,  they 
would  serve  as  prizes  to  attract  the  ambitious  into 
this  ill-paid  profession.  But  usually  the  inspec- 
torships are  plums  to  be  given  young  lawyers  for 
party  work.  No  wonder  the  discouraged  normal- 
ist takes  up  the  study  of  law  or  medicine. 

Bolivia  has  a normal  school  under  Belgian  pro- 
fessors but  not  more  than  two  or  three  score  of 
its  graduates  are  available.  Chile,  on  the  other 
hand,  early  showed  itself  progressive  in  this  mat- 
ter. In  1842,  only  two  years  after  this  type  of 
institution  had  been  planted  in  the  United  States, 
Chile  founded  a normal  school,  its  first  director 
being  Sarmiento,  then  a refugee  from  the  tyranny 
of  Rosas.  Under  the  lead  of  imported  German 
experts  normal  training  has  been  so  developed 
that  now  the  State  maintains,  besides  a Pedagogic 
Institute  which  forms  high  school  teachers,  fifteen 
such  schools  which  have  turned  out  a third  of  the 
public  school  teachers  in  Chile.  The  State  boards 
the  normalists  and  expects  in  return  at  least  seven 
years  of  teaching  service.  Men  and  women  are 


272 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


trained  in  separate  institutions  and  every  year  it  is 
harder  to  drum  up  students  for  the  men’s  normal 
schools.  Just  as  with  us  the  young  women  are 
taking  the  elementary  schools. 

The  undue  concentration  of  higher  educational 
opportunities  in  Santiago  has  created  the  problem 
of  getting  normalists  out  into  the  country  where 
they  are  most  needed.  Not  long  ago  one  hundred 
and  sixty  Santiago  normal  school  graduates  re- 
fused provincial  positions,  preferring  to  teach 
without  pay  in  the  schools  of  the  capital  in  the 
hope  that  eventually  places  might  open  for  them. 
When  they  were  given  to  understand  that  it  was 
the  provinces  or  nothing,  some  chose  the  latter. 
American  educators  in  Chile  observe  that  the 
teachers  there  lack  social  prestige  and  are  looked 
upon  as  merely  upper  servants.  The  gulf  be- 
tween the  director  of  a school  and  his  teachers  is 
wide,  and,  since  the  parent  will  deal  only  with  the 
director,  the  teacher  has  to  be  very  discreet  in  mat- 
ters of  discipline. 

With  the  aid  of  imported'  American  experts, 
Argentina  has  developed  sixty-five  normal  schools 
with  upwards  of  six  thousand  students.  What- 
ever the  present  deficiencies  of  public  instruction 
in  that  country,  this  broad  provision  for  the  re- 
cruitment of  teachers  is  an  earnest  of  fine  educa- 
tional performance  in  the  future.  Standards  of 
proficiency  and  pay  are  fairly  good.  Still,  there 
is  complaint  that  politics  influences  the  filling  of 
high  school  positions  and  it  is  said  that  for  this 
reason  few  bright  young  men  take  the  excellent 


General  view  of  La  Paz,  Holivia 


EDUCATION  275 

teachers’  course  provided  in  the  national  Univer- 
sity of  La  Plata. 

EDUCATIONAL  METHODS 

Until  recently  the  schools  of  tropical  America 
were  a century  or  two  behind  the  best  contempo- 
rary schools.  In  Colombia  still  the  prevailing 
education  is  authoritative.  The  pupil  learns  by 
rote  and,  instead  of  being  led  to  seek  truth  him- 
self, is  taught  to  look  upon  the  text-book  as  the 
last  word.  Cabinets  of  materials  and  specimens 
are  lacking  as  well  as  laboratories  where  the  pupil 
might  learn  by  doing. 

In  China  I have  heard  a school  before  coming 
upon  it  around  a bend  in  the  road,  and  in  Ecuador 
the  children  study  out  loud  just  as  in  China.  A 
port  Briton  complained  to  me  that  every  morning 
his  rest  was  shattered  by  the  noise  from  the 
school  across  the  way.  The  text-book  consists  of 
questions  and  answers  which  the  child  is  obliged 
to  memorize.  The  result,  of  course,  is  mere  par- 
rotry, for  the  poor  thing  comprehends  little  of 
what  it  so  glibly  recites.  An  American  teaching 
English  in  an  Ecuador  high  school  noticed  that  the 
answers  to  the  examination  in  psychology  were 
couched  in  the  choicest  Castilian.  On  inspection 
he  found  that  the  answers  consisted  in  verbatim 
passages  of  the  text-book,  reproduced  from  mem- 
ory. Such  a system,  of  course,  cannot  develop 
the  power  to  think. 

For  some  of  her  high  schools  Peru  imported 
trained  Germans  and  for  a period  of  years  she 


276 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


sent  annually  three  bright  young  men  to  study  in 
American  Universities.  Antiquated  methods,  in 
her  secondary  schools  at  least,  are  going  out.  In 
the  colegio  at  Arequipa  it  was  a joy  to  see  the 
spots  and  stains  on  the  tables  in  the  laboratory. 
There  were  scientific  charts  worth  $2000  and  ap- 
paratus showing  signs  of  use  and  the  lads  were 
doing  real  work.  A little  manual  training  there 
was  in  paper  and  cardboard,  but  no  money  was 
to  be  had  to  install  shop  work. 

One  German  principal  told  me  that  when  he  ar- 
rived in  Peru  he  found  that  the  students  in  the 
University  were  learning  chemical  reactions  out 
of  a book  but  were  given  no  reagents  to  use.  An- 
other recalled  the  time  when  the  Instituto  de  Lima 
boasted  a better  chemistry  outfit  than  the  vener- 
able University  of  San  Marcos.  Once,  on  inspect- 
ing a girls  ’ high  school,  he  came  upon  a fine  chem- 
ical cabinet,  but,  alas,  the  bottles  of  chemicals  had 
never  been  unstoppered,  while  the  retorts  still 
bore  traces  of  the  sawdust  they  had  been  packed 
in!  Meanwhile  the  girls  had  been  memorizing 
chemical  formulae  from  a text  of  the  question- 
answer  type  that  begins  with  the  query:  “What 
is  chemistry?”  or  “What  is  arithmetic?” 

When  a few  years  since  the  American  school 
was  opened  in  La  Paz  the  pedagogy  of  Bolivia  was 
incredibly  primitive.  The  rural  schools  were 
without  equipment,  often  without  desks,  and  the 
memoriter  method  prevailed.  Pupils  studied 
aloud  and  recited  in  concert.  One  taught  children 
in  order  to  get  them  through  the  examinations  set 


EDUCATION 


277 


by  the  outside  authorities.  A month  before  the 
ordeal,  long  lists  of  questions  and  answers  were 
worked  over  with  the  unfortunates  until  they 
could  rattle  them  off  correctly  “without  stopping 
to  think.  ’ ’ How  like  the  methods  in  many  of  our 
little  red  schoolhouses  forty  years  ago ! 

Normal  graduates  have  introduced  modern  ped- 
agogy into  the  schools  of  Chile  and  Argentina,  but 
still  we  must  not  suppose  that  all  is  well  with  their 
education.  A very  wise  man,  Dr.  Ernesto  Nelson 
of  the  Department  of  Education,  pointed  out  to 
me  how  the  ideas  of  the  old  social  regime  still  gov- 
ern. “The  child,”  he  said,  “is  not  sufficiently 
considered  in  family  or  school.  Its  individuality 
is  given  no  chance  to  develop.  It  is  told  how  to 
behave  and  what  to  believe  until  it  feels  itself  to  be 
a puppet.  Since  all  the  consideration  and  priv- 
ileges are  reserved  for  adults,  it  is  eager  to  be 
grown  up  as  soon  as  possible.  The  keeping  under 
of  the  child,  the  neglect  to  study  it  and  understand 
it,  to  consider  what  it  wants  instead  of  what  we 
want,  cause  it  to  grow  into  a man  who  will  bully 
or  cringe,  according  as  he  is  on  top  or  underneath. 
Hence,  the  ‘good  citizen’  of  a democracy  is  not 
yet  being  produced  by  our  education.  Only  free 
personalities  developing  together  will  ripen  into 
citizens  who  will  neither  abuse  power  nor  consent 
to  be  abused  by  it,  who  will  respect  the  rights  of 
others  because  they  value  their  own.  ’ ’ 

It  is  fortunate  that  at  La  Plata  the  Government 
has  given  Dr.  Nelson  a chance  to  realize  his  ideas 
in  a boarding  school  which  in  the  end  will  prob- 


278 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


ably  greatly  modify  the  secondary  schools 
throughout  the  nation. 

THE  LATIN  MIND 

From  long  study  of  our  education  Dr.  Nelson 
has  come  to  perceive  certain  intellectual  vices  in 
the  South  Americans.  “The  Latin,”  he  said, 
“insists  on  logic  and  symmetry.  For  example,  he 
adopts  the  plan  of  planting  a national  colegio  in 
the  capital  of  every  province,  which  is  usually  an 
important  city.  But  the  logic  of  this  scheme 
obliges  him  to  keep  up  in  Jujuy,  a city  of  a few 
thousand,  a national  colegio  which  has  only  forty 
pupils,  while  some  big  seaport  town  goes  without 
a colegio.  If  most  colegios  need  furnaces  the 
symmetry-loving  Latin  leaps  to  the  conclusion  ‘All 
colegios  should  have  furnaces/  and  so  a furnace 
will  be  provided  for  in  the  plans  for  a colegio  in 
the  sugar-cane  belt! 

“The  Latin  is  so  fond  of  the  theory  of  whatever 
he  undertakes  to  do  that  he  is  apt  to  lose  sight  of 
the  concrete.  He  will  work  out  elaborate  plans 
for  an  educational  system — course  of  study, 
scheme  of  examinations  and  promotions,  and  all 
that — but  loses  sight  of  that  simple  concrete  thing, 
the  child,  for  whom  the  system  exists  and  whom  it 
must  fit.  An  elaborate  theory  precedes  and  con- 
trols the  action  of  the  Latin.  You  Americans  let 
the  theory  of  a thing,  say  a social  settlement  or 
university  extension,  develop  little  by  little  out  of 
your  experiences  in  dealing  with  the  concrete. 

“The  Latin- American  university  is  located  in 


Incaic  wall,  Cuzco,  Peru 


Incaic  wall,  Ollantaytambo,  Peru 


EDUCATION 


281 


an  important  city,  because  as  a matter  of  pride 
each  city  must  have  its  university  and  it  must  be 
convenient  to  the  professional  men  who  are  to 
lecture  in  it.  The  American  realizes  that  a uni- 
versity exists  not  for  city  or  faculty,  but  for  its 
students,  and  so  he  plants  it  in  a small  town  like 
Ithaca  or  Ann  Arbor  where  the  student  will  escape 
the  temptations  and  distractions  of  the  city. 

‘ ‘ The  Latin  considers  the  result  rather  than  the 
process.  Show  him  drawings  made  by  two  chil- 
dren and  he  praises  the  better  drawing;  but  the 
American  educator  considers  the  mental  process 
involved  and  may  prefer  the  poorer  drawing  be- 
cause it  shows  a better  use  of  the  facilities  at  hand 
or  the  exercise  of  the  child’s  higher  faculties.” 

How  true  this  is.  The  man  in  the  street  wants 
Buenos  Aires  to  take  over  all  the  schools  of  Ar- 
gentina because  Buenos  Aires  commands  the 
requisite  ability.  He  overlooks  that  in  running, 
albeit  awkwardly,  their  own  elementary  schools, 
the  provincials  come  to  feel  an  interest  in  the 
schools  and,  besides,  develop  among  themselves 
some  skill  in  team  work. 

In  the  capital  of  a sugar  cane  province  I came 
upon  an  amusing  exhibition  of  the  Latin  mind. 
The  provincial  experiment  station  in  charge  of 
American  experts  and  the  national  agricultural 
school  managed  by  Argentines  are  both  conduct- 
ing field  tests  of  different  varieties  of  imported 
sugar  cane.  The  Americans  grow  the  canes  in 
small  adjacent  plots  under  identical  conditions 
and  those  varieties  which  are  not  suited  to  that 


282 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


soil  and  climate  advertise  the  fact  by  their  stunted 
and  yellow  appearance.  The  Argentines,  how- 
ever, cannot  bear  that  their  visitors  should  see 
anything  sickly  about  their  place,  so  they  spoil 
the  experiment  but  enhance  the  sightliness  of  their 
fields  by  giving  the  ill-adapted  canes  extra  hoeing 
and  manure. 

The  Argentines  mistrust  the  Latin  mind  and  ad- 
mire Americans  for  being  “practical.”  For  in- 
stance, at  a banquet  of  1800  covers  given  him  in 
Buenos  Aires,  Colonel  Koosevelt  found  himself 
at  the  table  of  honor,  at  one  end  of  a long  hall, 
from  which  he  could  not  make  himself  heard  by 
all.  A Latin  would  hold  that  one  must  speak 
from  the  table  of  honor  surrounded  by  his  distin- 
guished hosts.  An  American  holds  that  one 
speaks  in  order  to  be  heard  and  so  the  Colonel, 
when  he  was  called  upon,  went  half  way  down  the 
hall,  mounted  upon  the  table  and  was  heard  by  all. 
The  banqueters  all  praised  his  practical  action, 
although  to  none  of  them  would  it  have  occurred. 

CENTRALIZATION 

It  is  well  enough  for  the  South  Americans  to 
centralize  the  administration  of  their  schools,  but 
Peru  for  the  last  ten  years  has  been  under  a sys- 
tem centralized  to  the  verge  of  paralysis.  Al- 
though internal  communications  are  perhaps  as 
difficult  in  Peru  as  anywhere  else  in  the  world, 
the  inspector,  or  even  the  prefect,  of  the  remotest 
sky  province  may  not,  save  at  his  own  expense, 
install  a bench  or  have  a leaky  school  roof  repaired 


Mount  Altar,  Ecuador,  as  an  artist  sees  it 


EDUCATION 


285 


without  first  reporting  the  need  to  the  Minister  of 
Education  at  Lima  and  obtaining  his  authoriza- 
tion of  the  outlay. 

The  inevitable  delay  of  three  or  four  weeks 
in  hearing  from  Lima,  to  say  nothing  of  the  dif- 
ficulty of  making  local  needs  understood  by  an 
office  clogged  with  business,  is  a great  obstacle 
to  efficient  management.  A school  vacancy  may 
be  permanently  filled  only  by  an  appointment 
signed  by  the  President  of  the  Republic  and  the 
Minister.  The  municipality,  having  not  the  least 
responsibility  touching  education,  not  called  on 
even  to  furnish  a lot  or  a building  for  the  accom- 
modation of  its  own  school  children,  is  dead  to  the 
whole  matter. 

The  attitude  of  the  President  for  the  time  being 
is  decisive  for  education  and  if  he  is  not  interested 
in  it  the  schools  languish.  When  Congress  faces 
a deficit  it  is  always  public  education  that  is  cut, 
seeing  that  the  children  and  the  school  masters 
cannot  protest  and  the  parents  will  not.  In  Chile, 
too,  the  school  budget  is  the  first  to  feel  the  knife 
when  times  are  hard. 

Those  who  are  tired  of  seeing  the  schools  a foot- 
ball of  politics  are  agitating  for  the  creation  of  a 
special  school  fund,  such  as  prevails  in  nearly  all 
our  States,  formed  not  from  the  proceeds  of 
ordinary  taxes — which  would  invite  a movement 
to  exempt  from  such  tax  Catholic  parents  who  send 
their  children  to  the  parish  schools — but  from 
the  yield  of  public  land  sales  or  of  inheritance 
taxes. 


286 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


SECONDARY  EDUCATION 

Colombia  reports  229  schools  (colegios  or  liceos) 
with  an  attendance  of  19,000.  Two  thousand  lads 
are  studying  in  Ecuador  in  19  such  schools.  Peru 
has  27  state  colegios  with  an  attendance  of  2000 
and  enough  private  colegios — most  of  them  be- 
longing to  religious  orders — to  round  out  the  num- 
ber to  50.  Bolivia  has  14  such  schools — 8 of  them 
government  institutions — with  1800  pupils.  Chile 
has  61  government  colegios,  two-thirds  of  them 
for  boys,  and  subsidizes  67  private  secondary 
schools.  Argentina  records  28  national  colegios 
with  an  attendance  of  8000.  Her  number  of  sec- 
ondary pupils  altogether  does  not  exceed  15,000. 
Such  a proportion  is  amazingly  low.  In  Salta,  a 
province  of  160,000,  only  339  persons  are  in  high 
school.  In  Rosario,  a city  as  big  as  St.  Paul, 
there  is  one  national  high  school  with  450  stu- 
dents. Pennsylvania,  with  about  the  same  popu- 
lation as  Argentina,  has  six  times  as  many  pupils 
in  her  high  schools,  although  the  number  of  years 
is  four  as  against  six  for  the  colegios  of  the 
southern  Republic. 

The  public  high  school  is  obliged  to  make  its 
way  against  the  opposition  of  pay  schools,  some 
of  them  with  a strong  commercial  bent  like  our 
“business  colleges,”  others  maintained  by  the 
teaching  orders — Jesuits,  Salesians,  Dominicans, 
Mercedarians,  Sacred  Heart  or  Christian  Brothers 
— and  favored  by  the  wealthy  either  as  more  re- 
ligious or  more  exclusive  than  the  free  public  high 


EDUCATION 


287 


schools.  The  high  school,  moreover,  is  not,  as 
with  us,  the  people’s  college;  it  is  a fitting  school 
for  the  University  and  the  professional  schools. 
Eighty  per  cent,  of  its  graduates  go  on  to  pursue 
higher  studies.  It  belongs  therefore  on  the  whole 
to  the  upper  class,  while  the  great  bulk  of  the 
people  never  aspire  to  advance  their  children  be- 
yond the  elementary  school.  There  is  a deep  gulf 
between  the  two  grades  of  education  and  between 
the  teachers  of  the  two  grades,  so  that  both  pupils 
and  teachers  are  drawn  from  different  social 
classes. 

Latin  and  Greek  have  been  wiped  out  of  public 
high  schools  in  Peru  and  Chile.  In  general  the 
Latin  American  liceo  demands  less  in  mathematics 
and  laboratory  science  than  our  high  schools,  but 
it  offers  such  subjects  as  psychology,  logic  and 
philosophy.  The  pupils  progress  rapidly,  grad- 
uate at  sixteen  or  seventeen,  and  plunge  at  once 
into  one  of  the  professional  courses  in  the  Univer- 
sity. Some  principals  insist  that  the  bachelor  of 
the  high  school  is  not  really  ready  for  university 
work  and  ought  to  spend  two  years  more  in 
mathematics  and  natural  science  before  beginning 
his  professional  studies. 

Instead  of  standing  stoutly  by  the  principle  of 
public  education  Chile  has  been  giving  part  of  her 
school  money  to  private  high  schools,  some  of 
which  make  Dickens’  “Dotheboys  Hall”  look  like 
Groton  or  Exeter.  A recent  Congressional  Com- 
mission, after  visiting  a great  number  of  these 
subsidized  schools,  reported  that  the  most  obvious 


288 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


thing  about  them  was  their  dirtiness.  “In  some,” 
they  say,  “it  is  so  dreadful  that  one  knows  not 
whether  to  marvel  more  at  the  laziness  of  the 
principals,  or  at  their  ignorance  of  the  elementary 
rules  of  hygiene.”  In  several  of  these  boarding 
schools  the  dirt,  overcrowding,  underfeeding  and 
misteaching  were  such  that  the  Commission  rec- 
ommended their  summary  closure.  It  found 
that  many  a school  has  come  into  existence  just 
to  get  the  government  subsidy,  which  with  the  fees 
it  extracted  from  the  pupils  made  the  concern 
a good  speculation.  The  Brobdingnagian  capac- 
ity for  growth  which  lurks  in  the  subsidy  system 
appears  from  the  fact  that  in  twenty  years  the 
annual  grant  to  private  schools  had  risen  from 
$4000  to  $400,000. 

THE  UNIVERSITIES 

The  quarters  of  a South  American  University 
are  urban  in  location  and  cloistral  in  type.  In 
the  majority  of  cases  it  is  housed  in  an  old  mon- 
astery. The  University  has  no  campus,  athletic 
field,  tennis  courts,  gymnasium,  chapel,  social  hall, 
dormitories,  commons  or  other  means  of  caring 
for  youth.  It  publishes  no  catalog  or  circulars. 
It  has  no  registrar,  keeps  no  list  of  its  students, 
nor  does  it  know  their  addresses.  The  young  men 
live  all  over  town  and  remain  unorganized.  The 
professors  are  for  the  most  part  active  profes- 
sional men — lawyers,  editors,  doctors,  publicists, 
engineers,  pharmacists,  architects,  and  dentists — 
who  give  each  one  course.  Three  times  a week 


Two  ways  of  securing  strength.  Modern  masonry  (with  mortar) 
above  Incaic  masonry 


Row  of  great  porphyry  slabs,  at  Ollantaytambo 


EDUCATION 


291 


they  lecture  and  then  vanish.  They  are  likely  to 
be  abler  men  than  the  few  full-time  professors 
teaching  the  natural  sciences  and  they  do  bring 
with  them  into  the  class  room  an  atmosphere  of 
actuality ; but  they  have  little  leisure  for  produc- 
tive scholarship  and  no  time  to  get  acquainted 
with  their  students  or  to  guide  their  individual 
work. 

Thus  the  University  is  a seat  of  learning  but 
not  an  environment,  not  a soul  mold.  From  the 
moral  point  of  view  the  precious  plastic  years  the 
youth  passes  in  the  University  are  wasted.  Nei- 
ther with  his  fellows  nor  with  his  instructors  does 
he  form  associations  that  shape  his  character. 
A professor  of  San  Marcos  had  been  telling  me 
of  the  lack  of  noble  enthusiasms  in  Peruvian 
students.  “What  we  need,”  he  said,  “is  full- 
time professors  each  entering  into  relations  of 
personal  intimacy  with  his  students.  By  fellow- 
ship, by  coming  to  know  the  individuality  and 
problems  of  each  he  will  be  able  to  influence  them. 
In  this  way  he  might  inspire  them  with  his  own 
ideals  of  manliness  and  self  control,  of  honor  and 
devotion  to  duty,  so  that  Peru  might  have  a new 
type  of  citizen  and  public  servant.”  An  Argen- 
tine educator,  who  has  studied  universities  all 
over  the  world,  saw  still  deeper  when  he  said, 
“If  the  founders  of  the  University  of  La  Plata  had 
only  gone  out  a couple  of  miles,  bought  two  hun- 
dred acres  of  land,  turned  loose  a landscape  gar- 
dener and  built  halls,  dormitories,  gymnasium  and 
athletic  field,  they  would  have  created  something 


292  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

no  South  American  University  has,  viz.:  student 
life.  ’ ’ 

The  lecture  system  prevails  even  in  the  first 
years,  and  there  are  no  prodding  quizzes  or  mid 
term  tests.  In  general  the  professor  does  not 
call  out  the  individual  student  nor  develop  an  in- 
terest in  him.  In  the  law  course  many  students 
cut  lectures  cheerfully,  since  for  money  one  may 
acquire  a stenographic  report  of  what  the  pro- 
fessor has  said.  The  examinations  come  at  the 
end  of  the  year,  so  that  many  students  drift  along 
care-free  until  about  two  months  before  the  ex- 
aminations and  then  buckle  down  to  work.  This 
does  not,  however,  hold  for  the  “medics”  who 
have  a stiff  course  and  much  laboratory  work. 
The  reformers  wish  to  get  rid  of  the  lecture-ex- 
amination system  and  substitute  small  classes  in 
which  the  professor  may  reach  and  guide  the  work 
of  every  man.  The  University  of  La  Plata,  by 
limiting  the  size  of  a class  to  fifty,  aims  to  foster 
such  teaching. 

One  looks  in  vain  for  what  we  know  as  the 
“liberal  arts”  course.  All  the  students  seem  to 
be  pursuing  professional  courses  and  nobody  fol- 
lowing liberal  studies.  Pure  science,  indeed,  is 
little  considered  in  the  South  American  univer- 
sity, but  the  apparent  neglect  of  liberal  studies 
is  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  law  course  is  full 
of  culture  subjects — political  economy,  sociology, 
criminology,  public  finance,  Roman  law,  history 
of  law,  philosophy  of  law,  etc. — and  is  pursued 
by  many  who  have  no  intention  of  practising  law. 


EDUCATION 


293 


It  is  a five  or  six  years  ’ course  and  equivalent  to 
our  ordinary  professional  law  course  on  top  of 
two  or  three  years  of  college  study.  In  both  law 
and  medicine  the  South  American  universities 
give  a broader  training  than  has  been  received 
by  the  average  young  doctor  or  lawyer  in  this 
country. 


LIBRARIES  ' 

Only  in  Argentina  does  one  come  upon  a public 
library  movement.  Early  in  the  seventies  Presi- 
dent Sarmiento,  having  brought  back  the  idea 
from  his  long  diplomatic  residence  in  the  United 
States,  sent  collections  of  books  to  many  towns 
to  serve  as  nuclei  of  public  libraries.  But  the 
people  were  not  up  to  the  level  of  good  books  and 
there  were  no  skilled  librarians  to  make  reading 
popular.  It  is  recorded  that  in  1872  the  librarian 
of  La  Rioja  was  an  illiterate  and  the  story  goes 
of  another  librarian  who  was  found  consoling  him- 
self for  the  non-payment  of  his  salary  by  smok- 
ing cigarettes  rolled  in  leaves  from  Buff  on’s  Nat- 
ural History ! About  ten  years  ago  a new  library 
movement  came  up  and  in  1910  a National  Board 
of  Public  Libraries  was  formed. 

One  of  the  most  obvious  needs  is  a school  to 
supply  trained  librarians  to  make  books  acces- 
sible and  alluring.  At  present  an  Argentine 
public  library  is  a place  for  storing  books  rather 
than  for  using  them.  The  hours  of  the  Biblioteca 
Nacional  at  Buenos  Aires  show  clearly  that  the 
library  is  administered  for  the  convenience  of  the 


294 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


staff  rather  than  for  the  convenience  of  the  public. 
In  the  University  of  La  Plata  there  are  two  thou- 
sand students,  yet  the  book  calls  in  the  library 
run  about  1800  a month.  The  various  provincial 
libraries  I visited  kept  their  books  locked  behind 
glass  doors  in  wall  cases  and  were  without  loan 
desk,  card  catalog,  magazine  holders,  everything 
in  fact  which  might  make  the  room  seem  other 
than  a book  sepulcher.  In  Salta  the  drawings  of 
books  in  a year  equal  the  number  of  inhabitants. 
The  Municipal  Library  and  the  Biblioteca  Popo- 
lar  of  Rosario  together  show  an  average  daily 
attendance  of  115  and  daily  book  calls  to  the  num- 
ber of  100. 


INTELLECTUAL  LIFE 

In  Lima,  Santiago  and  Buenos  Aires,  as  well 
as  in  certain  minor  cities,  there  are  knots  of  in- 
tellectuals pursuing  learning  with  as  much  devo- 
tion as  you  will  find  anywhere.  The  equipment 
and  productiveness  of  some  of  these  scholars  is 
amazing.  For  example,  Ernesto  Quesada,  the 
Argentine  sociologist,  has  a private  library  of 
25,000  books  and  his  published  works  fill  a five- 
foot  shelf.  Those  of  his  compatriot,  the  jurist 
Estanislao  Zeballos,  who  has  collected  for  him- 
self a library  of  28,000  volumes,  occupy  nine  feet 
of  shelf  room,  while  his  unpublished  manuscripts 
take  up  four  feet  more.  Scholars  and  thinkers 
like  Cornejo  of  Lima,  Ballivian  of  La  Paz,  Letelier 
of  Santiago  and  Gonzalez  of  Buenos  Aires,  would 
be  an  ornament  to  any  people. 


Lake  of  the  Inca,  near  the  Transandine  Railway 


EDUCATION 


297 


Such  intellectual  activity  is  the  more  creditable 
when  one  considers  the  difficulties  under  which  it 
is  carried  on.  The  centers  are  far  from  Europe 
and  from  one  another.  The  cost  of  men  in  the 
same  line  getting  together  is  almost  prohibitive. 
The  smallness  of  the  intellectual  groups  forbids 
specialization  and  obliges  the  scholar  to  write  for 
the  general  reader  rather  than  for  his  peers. 
This  results  often  in  an  excessive  emphasis  on 
literary  form  and  a fondness  for  displaying  ver- 
satility. It  is  natural,  too,  that  the  scholar  should 
consider  it  his  first  duty  to  transmit  to  his  fellow 
countrymen  European  and  North  American 
thought  rather  than  to  devote  himself  to  independ- 
ent research. 

The  conditions  of  publishing  constitute  a heavy 
handicap  to  South  American  authors.  Said  a dis- 
tinguished Argentine  writer:  “We  have  no  real 
publishers  and  no  organization  of  the  book  trade. 
The  ordinary  edition  of  an  Argentine  book  is  500 
copies  and  the  author  pays  for  it.  The  publisher 
is  a retail  book-dealer  who  sells  it  at  his  own  shop 
but  does  not  make  it  accessible  in  other  book  shops 
in  Buenos  Aires,  in  other  Argentine  towns  or  in 
other  South  American  centers.  I have  the  great- 
est difficulty  in  obtaining  for  my  collection  copies 
of  important  books  published  in  Lima  or  Santiago. 
In  a word,  there  is  absolutely  no  means  of  getting 
a South  American  book  before  the  public  either 
here  or  in  Europe.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Span- 
ish publishing  houses  flood  the  South  American 
shops  with  their  output,  ‘dumped’  here  at  any 


298 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


low  price  since  the  book  is  supposed  to  have  paid 
for  itself  in  Spain.  Hence,  it  is  the  Spanish 
books,  not  the  native  books,  that  make  money  for 
the  Buenos  Aires  bookseller.  No  wonder  we  have 
to  publish  at  our  own  expense.” 

One  must  not  forget  either  that  the  book-read- 
ing public  is  very  small,  for,  like  the  people  of 
our  Far  West,  nearly  all  are  absorbed  in  material 
pursuits.  Said  a University  rector:  “Ten  thou- 
sand persons  do  all  the  thinking  and  directing 
for  the  seven  or  eight  millions  of  Argentines. 
Consumers  of  French  novels  may  number  a hun- 
dred thousand,  but  the  readers  of  serious,  non- 
technical books  are  between  2000  and  4000.”  In 
a word,  the  intellectual  life  of  South  America  is 
a tall  but  slender  spire.  What  chiefly  is  lacking 
is  a cultured  class  large  enough  to  consume  the 
output  of  the  elite.  Learned  periodicals  circulate 
some  hundreds  of  copies  and  in  Buenos  Aires 
there  are  two  great  newspapers,  but  South  Ameri- 
can magazines  for  the  general  public  are  tenth 
rate.  In  the  office  of  the  “Review  of  Law,  His- 
tory and  Letters”  of  Buenos  Aires  I saw  about 
five  hundred  serious  Argentine  books  and  reviews 
which  had  appeared  in  the  course  of  a half  year. 
This  is  extraordinary  considering  the  narrowness 
of  the  intellectual  circle  and  one  might  infer  that 
many  an  author  must  have  published  chiefly  to 
see  himself  in  print,  seeing  that  the  other  mem- 
bers of  this  circle  are  too  busy  writing  to  have 
any  time  to  read  his  book. 


CHAPTER  XI 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH 

IN  no  other  part  of  the  world  has  the  Catholic 
Church  been  so  protected  as  in  South  America. 
Its  position  in  the  Constitutions  of  the  various 
states  has  been  extraordinary.  Chile  since  1865 
permits  non-Catholics  “to  practise  their  religion 
inside  private  buildings  belonging  to  them.’’ 
Colombia  grants  religious  liberty  but  declares, 
“Public  education  shall  be  organized  and  con- 
ducted in  accordance  with  the  Catholic  religion.” 
Ecuador,  after  recognizing  Catholicism  as  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Republic,  directs  the  authorities  “to 
protect  that  religion  and  cause  it  to  be  respected.  ’ ’ 
It  is  only  ten  years  since  Bolivia  was  prohibiting 
every  non-Catholic  form  of  public  worship.  Until 
1907  the  law  decreed  that  any  person  conspiring 
“to  establish  in  Bolivia  any  other  religion  than 
that  which  the  Republic  professes,  namely,  that  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Apostolic  Church,”  is  a 
traitor.  Peru  still  declares:  “The  Nation  pro- 
fesses the  Roman  Catholic  Apostolic  Religion;  the 
State  protects  it  and  does  not  permit  the  exercise 
of  any  other.”  The  movement  in  Peru  to  cut  out 
the  last  clause  has  met  with  the  bitterest  opposi- 
tion. . 


299 


300 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Owing,  perhaps,  to  this  special  protection,  one 
comes  upon  many  things  which  recall  the  state 
of  the  Church  before  the  reforms  of  the  Council 
of  Trent. 

A Scotchman  of  Puno  on  Lake  Titicaca  told  me 
how,  thirty  years  ago,  when  his  little  niece  died, 
he  had  to  put  her  body  into  an  iron  coffin  and  sink 
it  in  the  waters  of  the  lake  because,  her  parents 
being  Protestant,  she  could  not  be  buried  in  conse- 
crated ground.  One  of  the  first  measures  of  the 
Bolivian  Liberals,  who  came  into  power  in  1898, 
was  to  take  the  cemeteries  from  the  Church  and 
put  them  under  the  control  of  the  municipalities. 
They  also  abolished  the  privilege  enjoyed  by  the 
clergy  of  being  tried  only  before  an  ecclesiastical 
court. 

The  Ecuador  Liberals  abolished  the  legal  right 
of  the  clergy  to  collect  tithes,  but,  so  great  is  the 
moral  authority  of  the  padre,  in  many  cases  the 
tithe  is  still  collected. 

In  the  interior  of  Peru  one  comes  upon  estates 
bequeathed  to  a certain  saint.  After  paying  for 
masses  for  the  repose  of  the  testator’s  soul,  the 
income  of  the  property,  as  administered  by  the 
local  cura,  goes  to  provide  vestments,  candles  and 
jewels  for  the  saint’s  image  and  for  the  annual 
outing  of  this  image  in  solemn  procession.  A 
friend  of  mine  needed  a day  and  a half  to  walk 
across  one  of  these  saint’s  haciendas. 

In  front  of  a Santiago  church  there  is  a large 
empty  cross  to  which  are  attached  models  of  the 
various  objects  connected  with  the  Crucifixion — 


Mapuche  (Araucanian)  children  from  near  Quepe,  Chile 


Coming  out  of  church,  Chinchero 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  303 


hammer,  dice,  pincers,  cock,  ear,  knife,  lantern, 
etc.  In  an  inscription  below  the  Archbishop 
“grants  eighty  days  of  indulgence  to  the  faithful 
who  before  this  cross  utter  a credo  or  a pater- 
noster.” Not  less  interesting  is  a small  tablet  set 
up  on  Santa  Lucia  Hill  forty  years  ago  to  mark 
the  site  of  some  Protestant  graves.  The  inscrip- 
tion reads:  “To  the  memory  of  the  expatriates 
from  Heaven  and  from  home  land  who  in  this 
place  lay  buried  during  the  half  century,  1820- 
1872.”  (The  italics  are  mine.)  Among  the  books 
published  in  Santiago  in  1912  I noticed  a work 
entitled  “Catholicism  or  Protestantism  1 A ques- 
tion of  the  greatest  importance — Do  we  believe  in 
God  or  do  we  protest  against  that  which  He  tells 
us?” 

In  a church  of  Cordoba  is  a richly  decorated 
wonder-working  shrine.  The  jewels  of  the  Virgin 
are  said  to  be  worth  100,000  pesos.  “Our  Virgin 
of  the  Miracle”  is  famous  for  cures  and  many  halt 
and  sick  resort  to  her.  On  the  wall  in  large 
frames  hang  nearly  a hundred  gilded  replicas  of 
the  parts  of  the  body  healed  at  this  shrine. 
Among  them  I saw  models  of  feet,  legs,  hands, 
arms,  eyes,  ears,  chest,  heart,  and  trunk.  In  a 
church  above  Santos  in  Brazil  one  comes  upon  a 
like  exhibit. 

Over  against  such  simple  piety  there  is  a start- 
ling irreverence  of  expression.  One  comes  on 
such  signs  as  ‘ ‘ Butcher  shop  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  ’ ’ 
“Furniture  shop  of  the  Savior.”  A well-known 
bottled  mineral  water  of  Peru  bears  the  name 


304 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


“Jesus  Water.”  There  is  a “Wine  of  the  Last 
Supper”  which  uses  Leonardo’s  famous  picture 
as  its  advertisement.  On  Good  Friday  a maga- 
zine comes  out  with  a picture  representing  Christ 
in  the  foreground,  Judas  and  others  in  the  back- 
ground smoking  a certain  brand  of  cigarettes. 
Judas  is  remarking:  “If  I had  had  such  ciga- 

rettes to  smoke,  I wouldn’t  have  betrayed  Him.” 
The  German  Catholics  in  southern  Chile  are 
scandalized  by  the  want  of  reverent  demeanor  in 
Chilean  Catholics  and  there  is  no  little  complaint 
of  the  lack  of  reverence  in  South  American 
churches. 

Said  an  American  in  Cali:  “When  we  started 
to  operate  our  electric-light  plant,  the  padre  asked 
for  free  current  for  his  church.  He  put  it  on  the 
ground  that  his  simple-minded  parishioners,  to 
whom  the  production  of  electric  light  is  a mystery, 
were  coming  to  him  to  inquire  whether  or  not  it  is 
of  the  Devil,  and  he  could  be  of  great  service  to 
our  company  by  assuring  them  that  the  light  is  all 
right.  ’ ’ 

In  the  cemetery  of  La  Paz  on  All  Souls’  Day  I 
saw  a woman  and  a priest  standing  before  a cham- 
ber in  the  wall  in  which  the  bodies  of  the  dead  are 
placed.  The  priest  was  rattling  off  a paternoster, 
making  an  unintelligible  sound  like  the  hum  of 
bees.  When  he  had  finished  the  woman  said, 
“Otra”  (another).  He  repeated  the  prayer  and 
again  she  said  “Otra.”  After  the  third  recita- 
tion, satisfied  that  the  repose  of  her  husband’s 
soul  was  secure  for  another  year,  she  inquired 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  305 


“Cucmto  valeV ’ (How  much?).  He  named  a 
sum  equivalent  to  twenty-five  cents,  she  paid  him 
and  he  went  on  to  serve  some  other  sorrower  in 
the  same  way.  In  the  poor  section  of  the  ceme- 
tery I saw  a priest  in  full  canonicals,  attended  by 
a boy  to  collect  the  fees,  going  about  as  solicited 
from  one  grave  to  another,  sprinkling  holy  water 
and  muttering  paternosters. 

Daily  before  the  Franciscan  convent  in  Lima  one 
may  witness  a rite  of  old-fashioned  charity.  The 
Franciscans,  or  “barefoot”  friars,  who  are 
greatly  respected  for  the  poverty  and  purity  of 
their  lives,  daily  visit  with  wallet  the  markets  and 
kitchens  and  beg  gifts  of  raw  food.  These  are 
made  into  a soup  and  early  in  the  afternoon 
brought  out  in  great  caldrons  to  the  waiting 
throng.  A brother,  who  looks  like  Sir  Galahad, 
stands  by  and,  with  a long  rod,  taps  drunken  men 
and  “stiffs”  on  the  shoulder  to  make  them  get 
out  of  the  line.  As  befits  this  androcentric  so- 
ciety, all  the  men  are  helped  before  any  of  the 
women.  The  latter  are  cleaner  than  the  men, 
bring  clean  pails  for  their  soup  instead  of  cans 
from  the  dump,  and  eat  with  spoons.  The  women 
were  mostly  poor  people,  the  men  mostly  “bums,” 
and  I was  glad  to  see  that  more  women  than  men 
got  a second  ladleful, — for  their  children,  no  doubt. 

In  the  front  of  a foundling  asylum  in  Santiago 
one  may  see  a device  of  medieval  charity.  It  is  a 
revolving  double-cradle  like  an  upright  half-bar- 
rel.  One  may  lay  an  unwanted  baby  in  the  cradle, 
give  it  a turn,  and  vanish  down  the  street  with  no 


306 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


one  the  wiser.  The  turn  leaves  the  baby  inside 
the  asylum,  rings  a bell  which  summons  a Sister 
to  take  charge  of  it,  and  brings  round  an  empty 
cradle  ready  for  the  next  superfluous  infant.  No- 
body has  told  the  good  Sisters  that,  the  world 
over,  the  turn-cradle,  invented  to  lessen  infanti- 
cide, has  been  discarded  as  a fosterer  of  illegiti- 
macy. 

An  aged  American  of  seventy  years’  residence 
in  Chile  confided  an  interesting  bit  of  family  ex- 
perience. “My  brother-in-law,”  he  said,  “an 
American,  died  recently  without  confessing.  His 
family,  all  devout  Catholics,  were  desolated  by  the 
conviction  that  his  soul  was  eternally  lost.  But  a 
Mexican  nun  in  Santiago  who  had  the  gift  of  vi- 
sions of  the  other  world  reported  to  the  sorrowing 
family  that  she  had  seen  him  in  Purgatory. 
Shown  his  photograph  she  identified  him  as  the 
very  soul  she  had  beheld.  Accordingly  masses 
and  prayers  were  brought  to  bear  and  soon  the 
nun  announced  that  his  soul  would  be  released 
from  Purgatory  on  Wednesday  week.  On  that 
day  the  family  and  their  friends  gathered,  and 
celebrated  with  great  rejoicing  the  salvation  of  the 
father.  I have  noticed,”  he  added,  dryly,  “that 
the  griefs  of  the  rich  are  more  often  assuaged  in 
this  way  than  those  of  the  poor.” 

THE  RELATION  OF  CHURCH  AND  STATE 

The  maintenance  of  public  worship  is  generally 
recognized  as  a duty  of  the  State  and  every  Gov- 
ernment contributes  to  the  Church  for  this  pur- 


Head  of  a llama 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  309 


pose.  The  annual  subsidy  ranges  from  $25,000  in 
Bolivia  to  $100,000  in  Peru  and  nearly  half  a mil- 
lion in  the  two  republics  of  the  South.  Moreover 
local  authorities  make  special  donations  for  the 
upkeep  of  the  church,  the  bishop’s  residence,  etc. 

In  return  the  Government  enjoys  certain  very 
substantial  benefits  arising  from  the  patronato,  or 
right  of  the  Sovereign,  conceded  to  the  King  of 
Spain  by  the  Holy  See.  Thus  the  Bolivian  Senate 
has  the  right  to  nominate  to  bishoprics,  the  Pope, 
of  course,  reserving  the  right  to  approve  or  re- 
ject. The  Liberals  are  not  in  a hurry  to  sepa- 
rate Church  and  State,  for  they  judge  that  the 
right  to  nominate  bishops, — who  appoint  the  curas, 
— may  be  worth  $25,000  a year. 

“No,”  said  an  Argentine  thinker,  “the  million 
pesos  the  Church  costs  us  annually  is  not  too  much 
to  pay  for  peace.  Our  Senate  nominates  and  the 
Pope  confirms  our  four  bishops.  Naturally  the 
Senate  picks  loyal  patriotic  Argentine  priests  free 
from  any  taint  of  Ultramontanism.  No  bull  or  re- 
script of  the  Pope  can  be  published  here  without 
the  O.K.  of  the  Government.  The  Church  will 
never  set  up  among  us  a system  of  church  schools 
in  opposition  to  the  public  schools.  Were  it 
under  no  obligation  to  the  Government,  it  might  do 
so.  The  separation  of  Church  and  State  would 
set  the  Church  free  to  follow  an  independent,  non- 
national line  which  might  later  on  bring  us  trouble. 
As  it  is  we  have  peace,  and  it  is  worth  the  price.” 

The  penetration  of  the  Church  by  numbers  of 
foreign  ecclesiastics  without  any  patriotism  to 


310 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


balance  their  loyalty  to  Rome  is  dreaded  by  the 
governments.  Ecuador  will  not  allow  an  alien 
priest  to  exercise  his  office  and  in  Peru  the  same 
restriction  has  been  mooted.  Chile  tolerates 
numerous  foreign  priests,  but,  like  all  Chileans, 
the  national  clergy  are  intensely  patriotic  and, 
during  the  recent  eventful  visit  of  the  Papal 
Nuncio,  supported  the  nationalism  of  the  Arch- 
bishop against  the  policy  of  the  Nuncio. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  urged  that  the  natives 
are  too  backward  to  assume  charge  of  the  Church, 
and  that  the  better-educated  foreigners  are  needed 
to  lift  the  plane  of  learning  and  character  among 
the  clergy.  Since  the  secularization  of  schools  in 
France,  many  French  priests  have  come  and  are 
said  to  have  a bracing  influence.  “My  friend,  the 
Bishop  of  La  Paz,”  remarked  an  eminent  Bolivian 
Catholic,  “sees  no  remedy  for  the  low  state  of  the 
Church  here  but  the  introduction  of  foreign 
ecclesiastics.”  I submitted  this  to  a political 
leader,  also  a Catholic,  and  he  scouted  it.  “The 
Government,”  he  insisted,  “will  never  allow  the 
introduction  of  numerous  alien  priests.  The  only 
means  of  reforming  the  Church  is  the  spur  of 
Protestant  competition.” 

A couple  of  generations  ago  a Liberal  Govern- 
ment in  Colombia  sequestrated  the  productive 
property  of  the  Church,  but  the  Conservatives  re- 
stored it.  The  fact  that  the  Italian  Bishop  of 
Cartagena  was  not  long  ago  found  to  be  vesting 
the  title  to  ecclesiastical  property  in  his  diocese  in 
a church  society  domiciled  in  San  Francisco  was 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  311 


generally  interpreted  as  a move  to  forestall  like 
action  by  any  future  Government. 

The  religious  orders  in  Peru  are  said  to  pos- 
sess many  agricultural  domains,  the  proceeds  of 
which  go  to  support  a declining  number  of  monks 
and  nuns,  to  enrich  worship  or  to  build  churches, 
but  do  not  render  social  service.  In  La  Paz 
lately  the  Government  took  over  the  convent  of 
La  Merced  and  its  farms  with  the  intention  of  de- 
voting them  to  educational  uses.  The  convent 
contained  but  four  monks  and  their  only  service 
to  society  appeared  to  be  the  getting  up  of  re- 
ligious processions.  It  is  expected  that  eventually 
the  Government  will  nationalize  the  property  of 
all  the  religious  orders. 

In  Chile  the  Church  has  the  name  of  being 
enormously  wealthy,  in  both  city  and  rural  lands. 
A German  business  man  declared  the  wealth  of  the 
Church  to  be  not  less  than  one  hundred  millions  of 
dollars.  A monk  I met  later  smiled  when  I men- 
tioned this  estimate,  but  nodded  when  I inquired 
if  the  wealth  of  the  Church  is  as  much  as  thirty 
millions.  The  State  has  never  shown  any  dis- 
position to  nationalize  such  property,  but  the  re- 
cent action  of  the  Nuncio  in  selling  a church  prop- 
erty and  taking  the  proceeds  out  of  the  country 
was  hotly  resented. 

In  general,  the  rich  and  philanthropic  South 
American  does  not  leave  his  money  to  a distinct 
institution  with  its  own  governing  board.  He 
gives  it  to  the  Church,  which  is  the  universal  im- 
mortal trustee  for  such  benevolent  donations,  and 


312 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  Church  devotes  it  to  religious,  charitable,  or 
educational  uses,  as  it  sees  fit.  This  massing  of 
gifts  avoids  the  waste  and  duplication  that  may 
occur  among  distinct  foundations,  but  it  adds 
greatly  to  the  social  power  of  the  Church.  In 
any  struggle  with  the  State  its  host  of  dependents 
and  its  harvest  of  gratitude  are  an  asset.  “This 
vast  and  profuse  charity,”  remarked  an  American 
astronomer,  “is  used  to  make  the  poor  contented 
in  their  place,  to  put  them  under  obligation  to  the 
Church  and  to  keep  them  loyal  to  it.”  Thought- 
ful men  feel  that  it  would  be  better  if  large  donors 
should  create  distinct  schools,  hospitals  and  insti- 
tutions instead  of  leaving  their  wealth  to  a single 
trustee. 


THE  CONFLICT  OVER  MARRIAGE 

Fierce  and  long  has  been  the  struggle  between 
Church  and  State  over  marriage.  If  the  State 
joins  people  in  wedlock,  it  not  only  abolishes  a sac- 
rament but  it  cuts  off  an  important  source  of  cleri- 
cal revenue.  In  Colombia  at  one  time  civil  mar- 
riage existed,  but  the  Conservatives  gave  the  mat- 
ter back  to  the  Church.  The  Government  of 
Ecuador  insists  on  marriage  before  a magistrate, 
and  has  punished  priests  for  disobeying  the  law 
that  gives  the  civil  ceremony  precedence  over  the 
ecclesiastical.  The  civil  marriage  is  much 
cheaper  than  the  other,  but  is  little  felied  on  owing 
to  the  feeling  of  brides  that  only  a priest  can 
marry  people.  Peru  provides  civil  marriage  only 
for  non-Catholics.  Bolivia  like  Ecuador  has  made 


Terraces  at  Ollantaytambo 


Incaic  walls  at  Pisae 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  315 


civil  marriage  obligatory,  and  recently  the  secre- 
tary of  the  Bishop  was  before  the  court  for  cele- 
brating a church  marriage  for  a couple  that  had 
not  stood  up  before  a magistrate. 

Thanks  to  an  agitation  led  by  Dr.  Trumbull,  one 
of  the  earliest  Protestant  pastors  in  Valparaiso, 
the  law  of  Chile  recognizes  no  other  marriage  than 
the  civil.  There  is  no  restriction  on  church  mar- 
riage, however,  and  many  of  the  common  people 
rely  on  the  church  rite  alone.  The  provisions  sur- 
rounding civil  marriage  are  so  onerous,  that  one 
suspects  it  was  intended  to  he  unpopular.  Brides 
and  grooms  under  twenty-five  years  of  age  must 
bring  the  formal  consent  of  their  parents  and,  if 
a parent  is  dead,  must  produce  death  certificate 
and  burial  certificate.  To  prove  one  is  of  age, 
wrinkles,  gray  hair  or  grown  children  do  not  suf- 
fice; one  must  furnish  one’s  birth  certificate,  or 
two  witnesses  who  have  known  one  for  twenty- 
five  years ! 

Argentina  recognizes  only  civil  marriage,  and 
the  fact  that  55  per  cent,  of  the  couples  in  Buenos 
Aires  dispense  entirely  with  the  church  ceremony 
shows  how  secular  the  people  have  become. 

THE  CHURCH  AND  EDUCATION 

The  struggle  between  the  old  and  the  new  in 
South  America  rages  chiefly  about  education — 
whether  it  shall  be  clerical  or  lay.  In  Colombia 
the  Church  has  its  way  with  the  result  that  the 
State  has  the  privilege  of  paying  the  bills  of  the 
public  schools,  but  not  much  else.  A French 


316 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Marist  informed  me  that,  in  the  Cauca  Valley  at 
least,  the  priests  supervise  the  schools  and  the 
catechism  must  be  taught.  Every  school  teacher 
is  by  law  required  to  have  his  Catholic  faith  certi- 
fied to  by  the  Bishop.  Moreover,  the  local  priest 
watches  the  teacher  and  may  have  him  removed 
on  religious  grounds.  Two  or  three  times  a week 
the  priest  instructs  the  school  children  in  religion 
and  every  Sunday  the  teacher  must  take  all  his 
pupils  to  mass. 

Twenty  years  ago  the  Liberals  ousted  the  Con- 
servatives in  Ecuador  and  since  then  efforts  have 
been  made  to  advance  lay  education.  Normal 
schools  were  opened  in  Quito  but,  from  the  first, 
the  ecclesiastics  did  their  best  to  induce  parents 
to  keep  their  children  away  from  these  “godless” 
schools.  In  Peru  all  schools  are  required  to  teach 
the  Catholic  religion  and  to  send  their  pupils  to 
confession.  In  general  the  padres  are  hostile  to 
state  education  and  imbue  parents  with  the  idea 
that  the  public  schools  neglect  the  morals  and  re- 
ligion of  their  pupils.  In  Arequipa  shortly  be- 
fore my  visit  a leading  physician,  the  organizer 
of  the  local  medical  society,  had  greatly  scandal- 
ized the  devout  by  advocating  before  a teachers’ 
institute  school  instruction  in  sex-hygiene.  The 
clerical  view  is  that  the  priest  should  impart  what- 
ever the  young  need  to  know  about  sex,  and  that 
to  put  this  duty  upon  the  teacher  would  be  robbing 
the  priest  of  one  of  his  proper  functions. 

Only  recently  Bolivia  has  eliminated  religious 
instruction  from  the  curriculum  of  its  public 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  317 


schools  and  substituted  moral  instruction.  For 
two  hours  a week  the  school  room  is  available  for 
religious  instruction  provided  by  such  person  as 
the  parents  may  designate.  Whether  a child  shall 
receive  this  teaching  depends  entirely  upon  the 
wish  of  the  parent. 

Although  in  Chile,  in  colegios  as  well  as  in  pri- 
mary schools,  religious  instruction  is  obligatory 
and  is  under  the  supervision  of  the  parish  priest, 
the  results  have  not  been  satisfactory  to  the 
Church.  “The  priest,”  said  an  educational  ex- 
pert, “knows  no  pedagogy  and  therefore  talks 
right  over  the  heads  of  the  children.  Hence,  in 
most  cases,  such  religious  teaching  seems  to  have 
no  effect  whatever.”  For  the  last  quarter  of  a 
century,  accordingly,  the  Church  has  been  labor- 
ing to  build  up  parish  schools  which,  with  the 
numerous  religious  liceos  and  the  Catholic  Uni- 
versity at  Santiago,  will  form  a complete  church 
system  of  education.  Often  there  is  no  one  to 
teach  the  parish  school  but  the  priest  himself  and 
hence  these  schools  are  still  so  backward  and  weak 
that  the  Conservative  party  opposes  a compul- 
sory school  law,  lest  the  public  schools  should  get 
all  the  additional  pupils.  Lately  church  normal 
schools  for  girls  have  been  opened  expressly  to 
train  teachers  for  these  parish  schools,  and  it  is 
believed  that  in  time  the  Conservatives  will  be 
willing  to  accept  the  principle  of  obligatory  school 
attendance,  confident  that  the  parish  schools  will 
get  their  share  of  the  pupils. 

In  Argentina  there  is  no  religious  teaching  in 


318 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  national  schools,  but  in  some  provincial  schools 
the  priest  comes  in  and  teaches  religion  to  chil- 
dren whose  parents  wish  it.  After  Chile,  one  is 
amazed  to  find  so  general  the  acceptance  of  the 
public  school.  In  Cordoba,  the  strongest  Catholic 
center  in  Argentina,  it  is  true  that  the  parish 
schools  are  subsidized  by  the  province  and  have  as 
many  pupils  as  the  public  schools.  In  Buenos 
Aires,  on  the  other  hand,  not  over  one  pupil  in 
fifteen  is  in  a parish  school.  No  educator  or  pub- 
lic man  expects  a church  system  of  schools  to  ap- 
pear. They  insist  that  the  Argentine  Catholics 
will  not  give  money  to  found  a separate  system, 
nor  will  they  generally  send  their  children  to  them 
if  such  schools  should  open.  They  evince  the 
same  confidence  in  the  finality  of  the  public  school 
system  which  American  educators  felt  twenty 
years  ago. 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  CLERGY 

“The  moral  character  of  the  Argentine  clergy 
is  high,”  testified  an  American  pastor  in  Buenos 
Aires.  “In  my  twenty-one  years  here  I never 
heard  of  any  scandals  involving  priests.”  “In 
the  seventy  years  I have  known  Chile,”  declared 
a Santiago  American,  “there  has  been  a great  im- 
provement in  the  character  of  the  clergy.  I can 
recall  when  high  ecclesiastics,  like  the  Bishop  of 
Concepcion,  openly  traveled  about  with  their 
families  of  children.  Now  the  priest  is  a pretty 
reliable  sort  of  man.”  Further  inquiry  brought 
out  the  fact  that  Archbishop  Valdivices,  a very 


Open-air  weaving  before  a Mapuche  ruca 


Oxcart  with  solid  wheels,  Chilian,  Chile 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  321 


pure  and  strict  man,  who  ruled  the  Church  of  Chile 
some  thirty  years  ago,  did  much  to  key  up  the 
clergy  to  its  present  plane. 

Very  striking  is  the  contrast  presented  by  the 
tropical  countries.  “What  do  you  think  of  the 
state  of  the  Church  here?”  I asked  a diplomat  in 
Quito,  a devout  Catholic.  “It  proves  to  me  that 
the  Church  is  divine,”  he  replied.  “How,  other- 
wise, could  she  survive?”  Yet,  thirty  years  ago, 
nearly  all  the  native  clergy  in  Ecuador  were  sus- 
pended and  replaced  by  Europeans,  so  that  prac- 
tically a new  hierarchy  was  established.  German 
Jesuits  replaced  Spanish  Jesuits  in  the  University 
and  the  seminaries,  and  the  clergy  to-day  are  con- 
sidered “a  decided  improvement”  over  forty 
years  ago. 

In  the  Peruvian  cities  there  are  padres  of  learn- 
ing and  piety  serving  enlightened  parishes,  but  in 
the  interior  the  situation  does  not  seem  to  be  much 
better  than  that  described  in  the  eighteenth  cen- 
tury by  the  academicians  Juan  and  D’Ulloa  in 
their  “secret  report”  to  the  King  of  Spain. 
Fewer  young  men  of  good  family  go  into  the 
priesthood  than  fifty  years  ago,  so  that  the  ordi- 
nary clergy  are  drawn  from  a lower  social  level. 
The  noble-minded  ecclesiastics  are  powerless  to 
stem  the  tide. 

The  Indians  of  the  Sierra  are  exploited  by  prac- 
tices which  have  been  illegal  since  the  Council  of 
Trent.  Indeed,  I have  been  informed  by  an  ex- 
pert of  the  Pan-American  Union  that  the  decrees 
of  this  Council  were  never  promulgated  in  South 


322 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


America.  In  Puno,  on  Lake  Titicaca,  a judge,  a 
leader  of  the  bar,  a gentleman  rancher,  a Swiss 
professor  and  a Scotch  trader  agreed  that  the 
curas  absorb  the  entire  surplus  of  the  Indian,  that 
they  collect  their  baptismal,  marriage  and  burial 
fees  in  advance  and  that  these  fees  are  not  fixed, 
but  are  assessed  according  to  the  ability  of  the 
family  to  pay. 

The  grasping  rural  cura  has  in  each  village  of 
his  circuit  a trusty,  who  keeps  tab  on  the  pros- 
perity of  each  Indian  family,  so  as  to  know  how 
much  he  may  extract  when  there  is  a marriage  or 
a funeral.  The  curas,  moreover,  are  financially 
interested  in  the  shops  that  retail  coca  and  alco- 
hol, the  scourges  of  their  flock. 

The  motive  in  their  recent  raid  on  the  Protes- 
tant mission  at  Chucuito,  where  a missionary  had 
gone  among  the  Indians  without  a cura,  persuaded 
them  to  give  up  coca  and  pisco,  taught  them  to 
read  and  write  and  to  speak  Spanish,  and 
prompted  them  to  present  themselves  dutifully 
for  their  military  service,  was  not  at  all  religious 
bigotry  but  resentment  at  interference  with  a lu- 
crative monopoly  of  selling  religious  services.  In 
Bolivia,  too,  the  situation  is  very  bad.  The  cura 
gets  round  to  the  little  chapels  on  the  fincas  at  least 
once  a year  and  says  as  many  masses  as  he  is  paid 
for.  The  tariff  has  been  fixed  by  the  bishop,  but 
he  works  a “combination”  so  that  the  same  mass 
is  counted  as  A’s  mass  and  paid  for  by  him,  but 
is  also  counted  as  the  mass  ordered  by  B and  C, 
and  so  must  be  paid  for  by  them.  Then  there 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  323 


is  the  alferez  or  Indian  designated  by  the 
cura  to  stand  the  cost  of  the  religious  festival  of 
the  coming  year.  The  victim,  always  an  Indian  of 
means,  will  sometimes  have  to  ruin  himself  pro- 
viding the  mass  and  the  food  and  drink  for  this 
feast.  To  relieve  the  alferez  and  remove  a great 
occasion  of  drunkenness,  Congress,  against  the 
protest  of  the  bishops,  has  recently  abolished  these 
feasts. 

A gross,  ignorant  half-breed  cura  up  among  the 
poor  natives  of  this  Thibet  may  extract  an  income 
that  would  do  credit  to  a metropolitan  pulpit. 
The  cura  of  San  Pedro  is  said  to  take  in  $4800  a 
year,  while  the  cura  of  Sacaca,  a village  of  2000 
souls,  derives  from  this  and  the  neighboring  ham- 
lets $7200  a year! 

The  trouble  comes  from  the  poor  material 
available  for  curas.  “These  half-breeds,”  said 
Dr.  Ballivian,  member  of  all  the  great  learned  so- 
cieties of  the  world,  “are  incapable  of  forming  a 
metaphysical  idea  of  God.”  “The  French  pro- 
fessors in  the  seminary  do  their  best  to  inculcate 
their  spiritual  conception  of  religion,”  said  Judge 
P.,  “but  the  cholo  does  not  grasp  it.  Despite 
their  instruction  he  will  turn  out  a corrupt  and 
avaricious  cura.  No  reform  is  possible  until  there 
are  more  white  men  in  the  Church.  Not  even 
alarm  from  Protestant  inroads  can  put  spiritual 
life  into  it.” 

Most  critics  of  the  religious  state  of  tropical 
America  assume  that  the  Church,  which  from  the 
first  has  been  in  full  control,  is  alone  to  blame. 


324 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


They  ignore  three  great  lords  of  human  life — 
Climate,  Pace  and  Social  History.  In  these  coun- 
tries all  three  work  against  the  prevalence  of  vir- 
tue and  character.  If  they  were  as  adverse  in 
Argentina  as  they  are  in  Ecuador,  then  the  Church 
in  Argentina  would  be  like  the  Church  in  Ecuador ; 
whereas  it  is  vastly  superior.  It  is  not  by  chance 
that  the  plane  of  the  Church  in  these  countries  is 
so  far  below  the  plane  of  Catholic  Ireland,  Bel- 
gium or  Bavaria.  An  American  Protestant  mis- 
sionary may  be  a power  for  good  in  Peru,  but 
so  might  be  an  American  Catholic  missionary,  if 
he  were  let  alone.  It  is  one  thing  to  send  in 
picked  educated  white  men;  it  is  another  thing  to 
fashion  your  clergy  out  of  the  material  at  hand. 
If  Protestant  congregations  of  simple-minded 
Kechuas  under  the  vertical  sun  were  entrusted  to 
mestizo  pastors  with  Spanish  traditions  in  the 
back  of  their  minds,  the  results  would  be  far  from 
satisfactory.  Let  the  critics  recall  the  African- 
ized Christianity  of  our  South  and  the  West  In- 
dies, and  be  charitable. 

THE  WEAKENING  HOLD  OF  RELIGION 

The  growth  of  unbelief  among  the  men  is  the 
outstanding  fact  in  the  religious  life  of  South 
America.  A Guayaquil  Consul  with  an  Ecua- 
doran wife  observed  that  religion  has  little  hold  on 
the  rising  generation  and  even  the  women  are 
much  more  independent  than  when  he  came  forty 
years  ago.  ‘ ‘ Then  all  the  women  wore  the  manteau 
to  church ; now  some  wear  hats,  while  others  will 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  325 


even  go  uncovered  to  mass.  The  padres  don’t 
like  it,  but  protest  would  do  no  good.”  “In  the 
educated  class,”  averred  two  Lima  editors,  “few 
of  the  men  are  devout;  most  are  deists.”  At  a 
dinner  attended  by  nine  public  men  and  scholars 
I learned  that  all  were  skeptics,  although  every 
one  had  been  educated  in  the  Jesuit  colegio. 
Most  of  the  University  students  come  through  the 
church  colegios  and  yet,  almost  to  a man,  they  are 
Liberal.  The  women,  on  the  other  hand,  are  very 
devoted  to  the  Church. 

In  Bolivia  I was  told  that  few  men  who  wear 
coats  go  to  confession.  The  women  and  the 
wearers  of  ponchos  are  for  the  Church,  while  the 
young  men  are  against  it.  Of  the  cathedral,  slowly 
rising  in  La  Paz  for  sixty-odd  years,  they  are  wont 
to  say:  “It  will  never  be  used  as  a cathedral, 
we’ll  make  a municipal  theater  of  it.”  In  Chile 
on  the  other  hand  the  hold  of  the  Church  on  the 
middle  and  upper  classes  is  as  strong  as  anywhere 
in  South  America,  while  the  men  of  the  upper 
class  seem  to  be  nearly  as  loyal  as  the  women. 

THE  PROTESTANT  MISSIONARIES 

In  an  interior  town  I met  an  American  mission- 
ary representing  a Bible  society  who  had  come 
down  knowing  not  a word  of  Spanish.  In  four- 
teen months  he  has  had  eight  attacks  of  the  fever 
and,  being  a middle-aged  man,  he  cannot  get  on 
with  the  language.  He  preaches,  but  the  people 
laugh  at  him  in  their  sleeves  and  he  makes  no  con- 
verts. The  priests  sent  their  followers  around  to 


326 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


take  his  tracts,  and  then  burn  them.  His  three 
fine  children,  in  their  teens,  are  missing  all  chance 
of  an  education.  Meanwhile  he  has  the  fanatic’s 
faith  that  the  Lord  will  open  a way. 

In  Bolivia  I came  upon  traces  of  two  philan- 
thropic Protestant  ladies  who  came  down  to  con- 
vert the  Indians,  not  only  ignorant  of  Aymara,  but 
knowing  not  a word  of  Spanish.  I heard  also  of 
an  evangelist  distributing  tracts  in  English  among 
the  Indians,  who  know  no  language  but  Aymara, 
and,  besides,  are  quite  unable  to  read! 

A Guayaquil  missionary,  a very  rare  and  noble 
man,  admitted  that  the  results  of  Protestant  work 
in  Ecuador  have  been  very  slight  and  that  the 
proselytes  generally  remain  on  a low  plane  of 
spiritual  development.  The  only  visible  religious 
result  of  his  labors  appeared  to  be  a better  feeling 
about  Protestants  due  to  the  self-devoted  life  of 
this  man  and  his  family. 

In  Peru  the  stimulating  of  thought  and  discus- 
sion on  religion,  the  heartening  of  the  laity  and 
the  breaking  of  the  absolute  monopoly  the  Church 
now  enjoys  there,  are  the  main  fruitage  of  mis- 
sions. The  making  of  Protestants  goes  on  but 
slowly. 

In  Chile,  on  the  other  hand,  one  can  find  fair- 
sized churches  resulting  from  the  labors  of  single 
missionaries.  Still,  the  impression  made  upon 
the  community  and  the  stimulus  given  the  domi- 
nant Church  are,  I think,  much  more  important 
than  the  winning  of  adherents.  At  first  the 
Protestants  are  known  as  coludos,  or  tailed  people, 


RELIGION  AND  THE  CHURCH  327 


from  their  patron  the  Devil.  They  are  also  called 
“mano  negra”  or  “black  hand.”  One  Chilean 
lady  took  the  woman  missionary  aside  and  asked 
her  very  earnestly  if  the  missionaries  were  not  in 
league  with  the  Rothschilds  to  buy  souls  for  Satan. 
Their  windows  will  be  stoned  and  their  steps  de- 
filed. In  Ancud  the  firemen  refused  to  throw 
water  on  to  the  threatened  mission  building,  hut  a 
citizen  seized  the  hose  and  saved  it.  In  Concep- 
cion the  molestation  of  the  Protestants  at  worship 
reached  such  a point  that  a policeman  had  to  be 
stationed  at  the  door  of  the  chapel  during  the 
service.  In  Osorno  the  mission  church  has  been 
burned  down  so  often  that  it  has  been  rebuilt  of 
cement.  The  Lutheran  pastor,  after  receiving 
assurance  of  special  protection  from  the  authori- 
ties, has  ventured  to  hang  a bell  in  his  belfry.  One 
missionary  in  the  course  of  his  first  five  years  in 
Santiago  occupied  with  his  flock  thirty  different 
premises,  owing  to  the  protests  of  the  property 
owner  against  the  vandalism  of  which  his  property 
was  made  the  object  when  used  by  Protestants. 
In  time  these  gall  stones  of  prejudice  are  dis- 
solved by  the  example  of  pure  living  and  religious 
devotion. 

In  results  the  best  missions  of  the  Protestants 
cannot  compare  with  their  best  schools.  Take,  for 
example,  the  American  Institute  planted  in  La  Paz 
five  years  ago  by  the  Methodist  Board.  Its  teach- 
ers are  models  of  piety  but  no  religious  instruction 
is  given.  All  the  classes  are  conducted  in  English. 
The  pupils  come  from  the  best  families  all  over 


328 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


the  country.  In  twenty  or  thirty  years  the  lads 
it  is  educating  will  be  leaders,  and  Bolivia  will  feel 
a stronger  sympathy  with  American  ideas  and 
ideals  than  any  other  South  American  country. 
Congress  soon  recognized  the  fine  work  the  Insti- 
tute was  doing  by  giving  it  a grant  and  later  it 
actually  took  away  its  subsidy  from  the  Jesuit 
colegio  and  gave  it  to  the  Institute.  A branch, 
also  subsidized,  is  now  at  Cochabamba,  another  is 
to  be  planted  at  Santa  Cruz  and  three  other  cen- 
ters are  asking  for  branches.  Such  work  is  in  line 
with  the  true  strategy  of  Protestant  work  in  South 
America,  which  is  to  make  virtue  and  true  religion 
to  abound  in  either  of  the  great  Christian  con- 
fessions. 


The  Andes  from  the  crest  of  Santa  Lucia  Hill,  Santiago,  Chile 


The  haunting  charm  of  Chile 


CHAPTER  XII 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT 

THE  one  certainty  in  approaching  South 
American  politics  is  that  they  cannot  pos- 
sibly be  like  those  of  the  United  States.  In  the 
first  place,  the  Spaniards  brought  to  the  New 
World  no  such  traditions  of  local  self-government 
as  our  ancestors  imported  from  England.  Such 
elective  local  officials  as  district  attorney,  town- 
ship road  supervisor,  county  sheriff  and  county 
superintendent  of  schools,  enforcing  or  adminis- 
tering state  laws  are  quite  inconceivable  to  a 
people  of  Spanish  extraction. 

Again,  the  distribution  of  the  population  into 
whites,  mestizos  and  Indians  makes  well-nigh  im- 
possible the  emergence  of  a general  will  and  of 
a government  truly  reflecting  the  general  will. 
The  Indians,  who  in  Ecuador,  Peru  and  Bolivia 
constitute  more  than  half  the  population,  stand 
apart  with  their  own  language,  customs  and  social 
status,  devoid  of  the  least  ambition  to  control  the 
Government,  and,  indeed,  counting  themselves 
lucky  if  only  they  may  escape  its  blighting  notice. 
They  are,  nevertheless,  by  no  means  a purely  neg- 
ative political  element,  for  even  if  they  contribute 
nothing  of  judgment  or  will  to  government,  they 

331 


332 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


may  be  made  to  fight  either  in  the  army  or  in 
the  revolutionary  forces.  So  that,  counting  as 
they  do  on  the  fighting  side  of  life  hut  not  on  its 
deliberative  side,  they  aid  the  uglier  side  of  poli- 
tics to  prevail  over  the  nobler. 

Let  it  not  be  forgotten  that  the  economic  re- 
lations in  the  West  Coast  countries  afford  a poor 
foundation  for  a stable  popular  government. 
Until  a little  over  a century  ago  the  bulk  of  the 
population  were  serfs.  Even  to-day  the  land  is 
held  chiefly  in  large  estates,  the  agricultural  popu- 
lation is  in  a state  of  dependence  and  stagnation, 
and  there  is  no  such  class  of  intelligent,  independ- 
ent small  farmers  as  have  constituted  the  back- 
bone of  democracy  in  this  country.  The  natural 
check  on  the  political  ascendancy  of  the  hacen- 
dados  would  be  Business,  or  an  alliance  of  Busi- 
ness and  Labor.  But  so  much  of  the  foreign 
trade,  shipping,  banking,  mining,  insurance  and 
railroads  of  the  South  American  countries  is  in 
the  hands  of  foreigners  that  by  raising  at  need 
the  anti-foreign  cry  the  landed  oligarchy  can  keep 
the  common  people  jealous  of  Business  and  un- 
willing to  join  with  it  in  curbing  the  domination 
of  the  territorial  magnates. 

The  perpetual  obstacle  to  the  improvement  of 
political  life  in  South  America  is  the  want  of  that 
element  which  in  Europe  is  known  as  “the  middle 
class.”  In  each  of  these  republics  there  are  men 
of  purpose  as  high  and  ideas  as  sound  as  one  will 
find  anywhere.  But,  in  the  absence  of  an  intel- 
ligent self-assertive  commonalty  to  respond  to 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  333 

their  appeals  and  to  clothe  them  with  power,  this 
type  comes  into  office  only  by  accident,  so  that  in 
general  the  man  who  rules  is  either  the  army 
officer  with  troops  to  place  and  keep  him  in 
authority,  or  else  the  politician  who  has  gathered 
about  himself  a great  number  of  followers  ani- 
mated by  the  prospect  of  capturing  political  jobs 
and  of  being  let  in  on  such  graft  as  the  country 
may  he  made  to  yield. 

One  who  looks  for  good  popular  government 
in  tropical  South  America  would  expect  to  gather 
grapes  from  thorns,  and  figs  from  thistles.  Take, 
for  example,  Bolivia.  In  the  small  enlightened 
class  there  is  rife  a spirit  of  progress.  There  are 
a few  men  of  character,  ability  and  education,  who 
are  working  together  for  definite  public  ends.  At 
present  they  hold  the  reins  of  power  in  the  Central 
Government  and  have  carried  through  various 
excellent  reforms.  But  this  bit  of  leaven  is  too 
small  in  relation  to  the  lump  to  be  leavened.  Men 
of  broad  outlook  and  high  firm  character  are  too 
few.  They  lack  following  and  support.  With 
us  the  moral  and  intellectual  peaks  rise  from  a 
plateau,  in  the  Bolivian  people  they  rise  from  the 
plain.  The  Indians  are  exploited,  helpless  and 
inert,  and  practically  nothing  is  being  done  to 
elevate  them.  The  cholos  are  bigoted  and  ego- 
istic, of  very  little  worth  either  intellectual  or 
moral  and  they  show  few  signs  of  improvement. 
Such  progress  as  has  been  achieved  in  recent 
years  is  the  work  of  mestizos  who  by  education 
or  by  residence  abroad  have  acquired  new  ideas. 


334 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


But  the  progress  they  can  bring  about  will  of 
necessity  be  slow. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  that  a people  so  com- 
posed should  make  the  solid  advance  of  a homo- 
geneous people.  It  is  not  difficult  to  introduce 
railroads,  telegraphs,  tramways,  port  works, 
electric  lighting,  water-supply,  parks,  telephones 
and  wireless  installations,  for  these  may  be  pro- 
vided from  above  by  a stroke  of  the  pen  that  signs 
a contract  with  a foreign  firm.  By  a skilful 
parade  of  such  improvements  it  is  easy  to  create 
in  remote  observers  an  impression  of  rapid  so- 
cial progress  in  South  America.  But  the  real 
evidences  of  social  progress  are  such  things  as 
efficient  popular  education,  public  sanitation,  an 
enlightened  penal  system,  the  control  of  alcohol- 
ism, the  protection  of  labor  and  the  providing  of 
justice  for  the  humble  suitor — blessings  which 
cannot  be  bought  with  cash  from  a foreign  con- 
tractor or  realized  by  the  action  of  a few  enlight- 
ened men  at  the  top,  but  require  the  intelligent 
cooperation  of  many  devoted  public  servants  sup- 
ported by  a vigilant  public  opinion. 

The  President  of  Bolivia  sends  out  to  his  pre- 
fects a statement  of  the  laws  in  force  designed  to 
protect  the  Indians  against  abuses  and  oppres- 
sion and  an  urgent  admonition  to  them  to  see 
that  the  rights  of  the  natives  are  respected.  The 
prefect  passes  the  circular  down  the  line  to  sub- 
prefect and  corregidor.  But  the  treatment  of  the 
Indian  depends  actually  upon  two  men,  corregidor 
and  cura,  and  it  is  impossible  either  to  imbue  them 


The  largesse  of  the  Andes 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  337 


with  the  ideals  of  the  prefect  and  the  bishop  or 
to  find  enough  good  men  to  fill  their  places. 
There  is  no  vigilant  and  independent  press  to 
expose  them,  no  association  of  citizens  to  keep 
them  under  surveillance,  and  no  well-directed  pub- 
lic opinion  to  control  their  conduct.  In  a word, 
there  is  no  “people,”  as  we  understand  the  term. 

SUFFEAGE  AND  ELECTIONS 

Although  in  South  American  countries  manhood 
suffrage  prevails,  limited  only  by  the  citizen’s 
ability  to  sign  his  name,  the  propertied  class  has 
found  ways  of  maintaining  itself  in  power.  Most 
of  the  peons  on  the  estates  are  simple-minded 
enough  to  vote  as  the  master  wishes,  for  they 
think  that  he  knows  which  is  the  better  candidate 
or  cause.  In  Colombia  the  priest  from  the  pulpit 
thunders  out  denunciations  of  the  wicked  Liberals, 
who  have  arrayed  themselves  against  the  cause 
of  God,  and  tells  his  parishioners  how  they  ought 
to  vote.  In  Ecuador  each  president  picks  his  suc- 
cessor and  directs  every  provincial  governor,  jefe 
politico  and  chief  of  police — all  of  his  appointment 
— to  see  that  his  man  is  elected.  The  meetings 
called  on  behalf  of  other  candidates  are  broken 
up  by  soldiers  or  police,  their  placards  torn  down 
and  their  headquarters  gutted.  Usually  these 
candidates  take  the  hint  and  find  some  decent  pre- 
text for  withdrawing  their  names.  On  election 
day,  therefore,  there  is  no  contest.  The  soldiers 
vote  three  or  four  times  apiece  and  these  together 
with  the  ardent  supporters  of  the  official  candidate 


338  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

enable  him  to  make  a respectable  showing  at  the 
ballot  box. 

In  Peru  it  is  said  that  35  men  dominate  the  150 
members  of  Congress  and  that  these  are  Lima 
men,  not  always  bom  in  Lima  but  still  members 
of  its  intellectual  circle.  Often  a man  of  pro- 
vincial origin  continues  to  be  returned  to  Congress 
by  his  native  department  years  after  he  has  given 
up  residing  in  his  department  and  has  identified 
himself  with  the  life  of  the  capital.  Of  course 
such  a man  has  to  go  back  to  his  constituents  from 
time  to  time  and  justify  to  them  his  political  con- 
duct. Now,  one  wonders  why  some  local  man  of 
demagogic  arts  does  not  undermine  the  deputy 
or  senator  who  for  years  has  been  absent  practic- 
ing at  the  Lima  bar,  and  capture  his  seat  from 
him.  I put  this  query  to  a high  official  of  the 
Republic  and  my  doubt  was  promptly  resolved. 
“The  electors  are  not  free,”  he  confessed  with 
charming  candor,  “and  besides  if,  up  in  the  Si- 
erra, one  of  our  valued  intellectuals  should  be 
beaten  by  some  local  nonentity,  he  would  contest 
the  election  and  his  fellow  intellectuals  in  control 
of  the  Chambers  would  decide  the  contest  in  his 
favor.” 

In  Chile  the  problem  of  maintaining  class  rule 
under  popular  suffrage  is  solved  without  the 
coarse  methods  in  use  in  Ecuador.  The  reliance 
of  the  oligarchy  is  not  on  force  at  the  ballot  box 
but  on  fraud.  To  a great  extent  the  inquilinos 
vote  as  their  master  directs,  but  more  and  more 
they  expect  him  to  buy  their  votes.  A friend  of 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  339 

mine  met  in  a train  an  old  planter  who  lamented 
that  while  in  the  old  days  he  voted  his  four  hun- 
dred inquilinos  as  a matter  of  course,  now  he  had 
to  give  them  from  $1  to  $4  to  get  them  to  vote, 
and  even  then  he  couldn’t  be  sure  the  vote  was 
delivered.  Since  there  is  no  shame  in  offering 
or  taking  money  for  a vote,  vote  buying  is  open 
and  general.  In  a hot  contest  one  hears  of  as 
much  as  $250  being  paid  for  a single  vote.  Who- 
ever can  write  his  name  may  vote ; hence  many  an 
illiterate  practises  until  he  can  write  his  name,  so 
that  he  may  sell  his  vote  for  the  wages  of  a week’s 
work.  The  democratic  or  workingman’s  party 
makes  no  small  noise  in  the  campaign  but  on 
election  day  many  who  have  shouted  and  worked 
for  it  sell  their  votes  to  the  Conservative  side. 
The  names  of  dead  men  are  kept  on  the  register 
for  the  convenience  of  repeaters  of  the  dominant 
party. 

Of  course  extensive  vote-buying  makes  an  elec- 
tion costly.  A deputy  will  have  to  spend  from 
$3000  to  $6000  on  his  election,  although  it  is  said 
that  in  Valdivia  as  much  as  $10,000  is  needed.  A 
senator,  inasmuch  as  he  has  a larger  district  to 
irrigate,  will  spend  from  $10,000  to  $16,000.  Such 
an  outlay  is  prohibitive  for  the  local  man  who 
would  really  represent  in  Congress  the  wishes  and 
interests  of  the  province.  But  for  the  sake  of 
retaining  their  national  political  control  the  rich 
Santiago  land-owning  oligarchy  can  afford  to 
stake  their  candidate  with  such  a corruption  fund. 
Hence  it  is  the  Santiago  group  that  determines 


340 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


who  shall  stand  for  a given  seat  in  the  provinces, 
and  finds  the  money  needed  to  elect  him.  Natu- 
rally the  Conservatives,  who  keep  their  con- 
trol only  by  the  use  of  money,  have  not  the 
least  idea  of  sawing  off  the  limb  they  perch 
on,  so  it  is  not  surprising  that  after  years  of* 
publicity  and  agitation  over  electoral  frauds 
Congress  doggedly  refuses  to  enact  a corrupt 
practices  act. 

In  Argentina  an  eminent  statesman  assured  me 
that  free  elections  are  a matter  of  only  the  last  ten 
years,  and  even  now  in  up-country  provinces — as 
strikingly  illustrated  in  December,  1913,  in  the 
province  of  San  Juan — the  old  spirit  of  official 
interference  lives  on.  Secret  ballot,  although  for 
several  years  it  has  existed  in  law,  has  existed 
in  fact  for  only  four  or  five  years. 

POLITICAL  PABTIES 

A greater  obstacle  to  popular  government  than 
even  peon  subserviency  or  tampering  with  elec- 
tions is  the  absence  of  genuine  political  parties. 
“If  the  Liberal  party  held  a national  convention 
and  chose  its  candidate  for  president,”  said  an 
Ecuador  senator,  “it  would  not  be  necessary  as 
now  for  President  Plaza  to  pick  his  successor. 
If  a single  candidate  duly  nominated  were  in  the 
field  for  the  votes,  Plaza  would  not  need  to  use 
his  soldiers  to  break  up  the  meetings  and  the 
propaganda  of  the  friends  of  other  Liberal  candi- 
dates than  his  own.  Now  he  has  to  interfere  lest 
the  Liberals  scatter  their  support  and  lose  the  elec- 


Courtesy  ot  Dr.  W.  F.  Bailey 


On  the  Road  to  Chanchamayo 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  343 


tion.  The  Conservatives,  too,  ought  to  organize 
and  pick  their  candidate ; then  the  two  rival  candi- 
dates would  represent  opposed  political  principles 
and  we  should  have  a fruitful  battle  of  ideas.” 

But  there  is  not  the  least  prospect  of  an  organi- 
zation of  parties  in  Ecuador.  The  materials  for 
building  up  a party  from  the  bottom  do  not  exist. 
Caudillismo  or  bossism  is  the  curse  of  this  as  of 
most  other  countries  in  Spanish  America.  A 
candidate  is  not  a nominee,  but  simply  a man  with 
a following.  His  followers  adhere  to  him  not  be- 
cause he  is  the  doughtiest  champion  of  their  ideas, 
but  because  he  may  be  a winner,  and  if  he  wins 
they  share  the  spoil.  “Don’t  support  me  in  order 
that  I may  do  something  for  you  but  because  I 
represent  your  ideas”  was  the  exhortation  of 
President  Plaza  to  a follower.  “If  my  op- 
ponent better  represents  your  ideas,  support 
him.”  But  such  ideas  are  utterly  strange  to  the 
Ecuador  mind. 

In  Peru  likewise  the  political  party,  like  State 
and  Church,  is  built  from  above  down,  not  from 
below  up.  A political  aspirant  puts  out  his  “pro- 
gram” as  a basis  for  getting  together,  and  this 
constitutes  the  only  platform  his  party  ever 
knows.  Why  this  must  be  came  out  very  clearly 
at  a dinner  attended  by  an  ex-president  of  Peru, 
the  presidents  of  the  Chambers,  the  Dean  of  the 
University  and  other  public  men.  To  my  ques- 
tion, “What  are  the  national  questions  agitating 
the  public  mind?”  came  the  reply,  “There  are  no 
national  questions  agitating  Peru  because  a na- 


344 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


tional  consciousness  of  such  questions  does  not 
exist.  The  environments  and  the  races  of  Peru 
are  so  diverse  that  a collective  opinion  does  not 
form  on  any  question.  What  matters  the  people 
shall  consider  depends  upon  what  is  uppermost 
in  the  minds  of  the  group  of  men  who  constitute 
the  government  of  the  moment.  When  they  fall 
and  a new  prefect  is  sent  out  by  another  group  of 
men,  the  discussion  of  the  public  takes  a new  direc- 
tion. In  a word,  public  opinion  does  not  deter- 
mine the  course  of  government,  hut  government 
controls  the  course  of  public  opinion.’ ’ 

Under  such  circumstances  it  is  not  surprising 
that,  in  all  the  departments,  the  candidates  of  each 
party  are  named  by  the  Central  Committee  of  that 
party  and  not  by  a local  convention.  This,  of 
course,  gives  Lima  a great  control  over  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  interior. 

In  Chile  the  outstanding  political  feature  is 
not  caudillismo  but  the  well-knit  ruling  class  of 
large  proprietors.  They  keep  control  of  the  Con- 
servative or  clerical  party  by  controlling  its  Ex- 
ecutive Committee,  which  picks  the  men  who  are 
to  stand  as  the  candidates  of  the  party  in  the 
provinces.  Once  in  every  three  or  four  years 
there  is  a convention  of  elected  delegates  which 
formulates  the  platform  of  this  party,  hut  there 
are  no  conventions  in  the  provinces  and  depart- 
ments to  nominate  a candidate  for  Congress. 
Such  gatherings  might  put  up  local  men  who  in 
Congress  would  perhaps  block  the  spending  of  the 


Tower  of  San  Francisco  Church,  Cali,  Colombia 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  347 


lion’s  share  of  the  national  revenues  upon  the 
improvement  and  embellishment  of  Santiago.  So 
the  Executive  Committee  is  likely  to  pick  a safe 
Santiago  man  to  stand  for  Tarapaca  or  Coquimbo 
and  the  Conservatives  of  that  province  have  to 
accept  him,  for  only  he  can  command  the  Santiago 
money  that  will  buy  the  needed  votes.  Thus  of 
the  four  deputies  from  the  province  of  Valdivia 
only  one  permanently  resides  there,  while  two  of 
them  never  show  their  faces  in  the  province  save 
in  the  course  of  an  electoral  campaign. 

From  the  first  the  Radical  party  has  been  dem- 
ocratically organized  and  has  always  left  it  to 
a provincial  convention  to  pick  its  candidate  for 
senator  and  to  a departmental  convention  to  pick 
its  candidate  for  deputy.  Only  lately  the  Liberals 
have  organized  themselves  on  the  same  plan ; but, 
since  the  Conservatives  with  their  great  corrup- 
tion fund  keep  a comfortable  majority  in  Con- 
gress, the  policy  of  the  weaker  parties  has  no 
effect  upon  the  political  system  of  the  Republic. 

Argentina  has  known  great  party  struggles, 
Federalists  with  Unitarians  during  the  Rosas  re- 
gime, 1827-1854;  later,  Nationalists  with  Autono- 
mists. Then  followed,  however,  the  era  of  parties 
formed  about  a leader  or  caudillo.  The  leader 
did  not  rely  solely  on  the  attractiveness  of  his  pro- 
gram. He  was  a boss  with  a strong  Tammany 
tendency  to  hold  out  to  his  loyal  followers  the 
prospect  of  places  and  favors  once  he  came  into 
power.  At  present  the  Socialists  constitute  the 


348 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


only  true  party  in  Argentina,  but  tbe  old  chiefs 
are  gone  and  the  time  seems  ripe  for  the  ap- 
pearance of  other  national  parties. 

One  possible  basis  for  such  cleavage  appears  to 
be  the  free-trade-protection  issue.  The  old  cattle- 
raising and  agricultural  interests  are  naturally 
for  free  trade,  for  with  their  product  they  fill  the 
home  market  and  overflow  into  the  foreign  market. 
But  the  wine  industry  about  Mendoza  and  the 
sugar  industry  about  Tucuman  crave  protection 
in  order  to  be  able  to  enjoy  the  home  market,  and 
they  may  unite  with  the  nascent  manufacturing 
industries  that  already  show  themselves  in  Buenos 
Aires,  Rosario  and  a few  other  centers,  to  form 
the  nucleus  of  a protectionist  party.  Tobacco, 
lumber  and  citrus  fruits  are  mentioned  as  other 
possible  claimants  of  protection,  and  on  the  basis 
of  our  own  experience  one  can  easily  foresee  how 
a home-industry  movement  may  arise. 

Then  there  is  the  possibility  of  a cleavage  on 
nationalism  versus  states’  rights.  In  old  creole 
Argentina  the  provinces  were  isolated  and  self- 
centered.  National  unity  came  only  with  rail- 
roads and  telegraphs  and  after  bloody  strife. 
In  theory  the  nation  is  now  a federal  union  of 
fourteen  states,  but  the  extension  of  the  activi- 
ties of  the  Central  Government  threatens  to  throw 
the  federal  system  out  of  balance.  In  the  prov- 
inces (states)  there  are  federal,  as  well  as  pro- 
vincial, highways,  insane-asylums  and  hospitals. 
In  the  city  of  Cordoba  there  are  three  kinds  of 
hospitals  and  parks,  municipal,  provincial  and  na- 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  349 


tional.  Not  only  are  the  national  universities 
overshadowing  the  provincial,  but  the  Central 
Government  actually  provides  elementary  schools 
to  supplement  those  of  a weak  or  backward  prov- 
ince. Most  of  the  irrigation  reservoirs  and 
canals  are  national,  and  the  fighting  of  insect 
plagues  the  country  over  is  directed  from  Buenos 
Aires.  Most  of  the  banks  and  all  the  insurance 
companies  operate  under  a Federal  charter.  The 
code  of  law  is  national,  so  that  there  are  none  of 
the  vexations  we  experience  from  the  diversity 
of  state  laws  respecting  bankruptcy,  partnership, 
sales,  bills  of  lading,  marriage  and  divorce.  It 
is  the  provincial  courts  and  police,  however,  that 
enforce  this  code. 

Buenos  Aires  pushes  national  undertakings  for 
the  same  reason  that  Tammany  pushes  public 
works  in  New  York  City — because  every  fresh  ex- 
penditure means  a rake-off  or  at  least  a profit  for 
the  insiders.  Then  too,  just  as  with  us,  the  Fed- 
eral revenues,  being  derived  to  the  extent  of  80% 
from  customs  duties,  come  more  freely  than  state 
revenues  and  are  felt  less.  When  the  council 
formed  to  provide  a water  system  for  the  national 
capital  offered  to  install  water  works  for  interior 
towns,  the  service  was  gladly  accepted,  since 
thereby  one  more  local  burden  was  rolled  on  to  the 
broad  back  of  the  nation. 

Filled  with  faith  in  the  power,  the  resources  and 
the  efficiency  of  the  National  Government,  the 
young  men  come  out  of  the  universities  with  the 
maxim,  “Let  Buenos  Aires  do  it.”  “I  ’ll  tell  you 


350 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


why  I ’m  for  letting  a single  minister  of  education 
here  direct  the  schools  of  the  whole  country,” 
said  a public  man.  “Because  it ’s  easier  to 
find  one  able  educator  than  to  find  fourteen.” 
This  passes  for  logic  and  no  one  in  politics  seems 
solicitous  to  conserve  the  political  vitality  of  the 
provinces  and  municipalities,  thereby  keeping  the 
citizens  interested  in  and  dealing  with  their  im- 
mediate communal  concerns.  Only  the  rare  soci- 
ologist points  out  that  if  the  people  miss  the  ex- 
perience of  discussing  and  managing  local  matters 
they  will  be  poorer  citizens.  Few  foresee  that 
in  time  the  interior  backward  provinces  will  over- 
take the  seaboard  states  in  population,  wealth, 
standards  and  men  of  capacity  and  will  then  re- 
sent Buenos  Aires,  managing  for  them  things 
which  they  could  manage  better  and  more  to  their 
liking  with  their  own  resources  and  their  own  men. 

CENTRALIZATION 

Alexander  Hamilton  was  defeated  in  his  at- 
tempt to  give  the  President  of  the  United  States 
the  power  to  appoint  the  governors  of  the  States. 
In  Spanish  American  countries  his  ideal  is  gen- 
erally realized.  The  President  of  Colombia  ap- 
points the  governor  of  each  department  and  the 
governor  appoints  the  prefects  and  mayors.  The 
President  of  Peru  appoints  the  prefects,  these  the 
subprefects  and  the  latter  name  the  governors. 
Reports  flow  up  this  official  staircase  and  orders 
flow  down,  so  that  the  whole  administration  dances 
to  Lima’s  piping.  In  Chile  there  is  a complete 


Indian  balsa  on  Lake  Titicaca 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  353 


chain  from  President  through  intendant,  governor 
and  subdelegate  to  inspector.  There  are  munici- 
pal councils  for  cities,  but  nowhere  is  there  a place 
for  the  county  as  we  know  it,  electing  its  own 
prosecutor,  judge  and  sheriff. 

Peru  has  three  universities  out  in  the  provinces 
— Arequipa,  Trujillo  and  Cuzco.  Lima  wishes  to 
center  all  professional  education  in  the  University 
of  San  Marcos,  leaving  to  these  venerable  pro- 
vincial institutions  nothing  but  two  years  of  in- 
struction in  letters  and  science.  The  opposition 
is  bitter  and  Cuzco  even  talks  of  a revolt  if  its 
university  is  thus  pared  down.  One  can  but  sym- 
pathize with  the  provinces  as  against  the  blind 
ambitions  of  the  capital.  Aside  from  the  expense 
of  getting  to  remote  Lima,  living  is  twice  as  dear 
there  and  for  the  stranger  youth  the  environment 
is  of  the  wTorst.  To  say  nothing  of  the  debilitat- 
ing climate,  the  tone  of  the  capital  is  lax,  tempta- 
tion is  rife,  extravagance  reigns  and  the  highland 
student  who  is  not  ruined  in  his  morals  may  have 
to  drop  out  because  the  spending  pace  is  too  hot. 
In  fact,  despite  its  circle  of  intellectuals,  Lima  is 
the  last  place  in  Peru  to  gather  young  men  for 
study.  One  may  doubt,  too,  the  wisdom  of  the 
Church  in  recently  limiting  the  course  of  instruc- 
tion in  its  seven  provincial  seminaries  and  requir- 
ing all  clerigos  to  complete  their  education  in  the 
Seminary  of  Lima. 

The  Government  of  Chile  relieves  the  cities  of 
the  burden  of  pavement,  sewers,  water-supply, 
fire  protection,  police  and  hospitals,  so  that  the 


354 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


municipality  has  nothing  to  do  but  care  for  streets 
and  parks,  light  them  and  provide  band  music. 
Its  taxation  is  limited  to  three  mills  in  the  dollar. 
No  doubt,  the  department  of  public  works  has 
given  some  cities  better  water  than  otherwise  they 
would  have.  On  the  other  hand,  German-managed 
towns  like  La  Union  and  Osorno  would  have  good 
drinking  water  if  only  they  might  provide  it  for 
themselves;  but,  thanks  to  their  dependence  on 
remote  Santiago,  their  water  is  bad  and  typhus 
is  rife. 

Still  worse  is  the  concentration  of  govern- 
ment institutions  and  improvements  at  Santiago. 
There  the  governing  oligarchy  have  their  resi- 
dences and  interests,  so  the  streets  of  the  nitrate 
ports  go  unpaved  in  order  that  there  may  be  more 
asphalt  for  the  nine  hundred  automobiles  of 
Santiago  to  roll  over.  In  the  capital  one  finds 
the  arsenal,  the  penitentiary,  the  astronomical 
observatory,  the  “zoo,”  the  botanic  gardens,  the 
national  museum,  the  museum  of  fine  arts,  the 
national  institute,  the  national  library,  the  mili- 
tary school,  the  school  of  arts  and  crafts,  the 
normal  school  of  preceptors,  the  pedagogical  in- 
stitute, the  school  of  agriculture,  and  the  state 
university.  Out  in  the  provinces  one  finds  some 
liceos  and  normal  schools,  but  the  schools  of  the 
capital  are  favored  far  above  the  others. 

When  now  to  this  lavish  outlay  of  national  in- 
come on  the  capital  is  added  the  resulting  tend- 
ency of  the  landed  proprietors  to  abandon  their 
estates  and  spend  their  income  in  Santiago,  so- 


An  Aymara  of  Bolivia 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  357 


ciety  is  thrown  quite  out  of  balance.  As  the 
country  gentlemen  leave  for  Santiago  there  is  no 
one  to  take  an  interest  in  roads,  rural  schools  and 
police,  so  that  the  country  runs  down.  The  better 
class  of  agricultural  laborers  move  to  town  where 
their  women  will  be  safe  and  their  children  taught. 
The  more  people  move  away,  the  more  deserted, 
dreary  and  rude  the  country  becomes,  with  the 
result  of  stimulating  still  more  the  exodus  from 
the  fields.  Meanwhile  the  capital  finds  itself  with 
crowded  slums,  unemployed,  processions  of  the 
starving  and  like  signs  of  overgrowth.  The  net 
outcome  of  class  rule  is  that  an  undue  share  first  of 
public  revenue,  then  of  private  income,  lastly  of 
population,  has  been  concentrated  in  the  capital. 
True  statesmanship  would  have  planted  many  of 
the  state  institutions  in  provincial  towns,  thereby 
helping  them  to  hold  their  population,  and  would 
have  spent  more  money  on  the  roads,  schools  and 
police  that  make  the  country  good  to  live  in. 

THE  SPOILS  SYSTEM 

The  public  service  in  South  America  resembles 
that  of  some  of  our  cities  before  civil  service  re- 
form. In  one  Colombian  port  of  five  thousand 
souls  I found  two  hundred  persons  drawing  pay 
from  the  public  treasury.  When  the  export 
duty  on  ivory  nuts  brought  more  revenue  into  the 
municipal  treasury,  the  treasurer,  who  had  one 
helper,  enlarged  his  staff  with  two  secretaries,  one 
doorkeeper,  one  inspector  and  four  policemen — all 
his  political  friends.  In  Peru  there  is  no  conscious 


358 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


preparation  of  young  men  for  the  service  of  the 
state.  The  President  appoints  his  friends  and 
supporters  to  the  prefectures  and  they  look  upon 
their  duties  and  opportunities  with  the  eye  of 
the  true  politician.  “Every  Chilean,”  say  the 
Germans  of  southern  Chile,  “yearns  to  live 
at  the  expense  of  the  State.  If  he  is  of  good 
and  old  family  he  deems  it  the  duty  of  the  State 
to  provide  for  him.”  Men  horn  in  Chile  estimate 
that  75%  of  the  educated  people  live  off  the  State. 
The  government  railways  lose  $80,000  a month 
and  one  reason  is,  too  many  political  deadheads 
and  employees.  In  Tucuman  in  Argentina  I 
found  that  young  men  rely  on  a government  post 
to  tide  them  over  the  difficulties  of  getting  estab- 
lished in  a profession.  There  are,  in  fact,  great 
numbers  of  little  government  jobs  of  a clerical 
character,  which  are  nearly  sinecures  and  which 
are  available  for  those  with  any  “influence.” 
Thus  the  “Library  of  Congress”  of  Tucuman,  a 
small  affair  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  volumes,  half 
of  them  government  reports  to  be  had  for  nothing, 
is  looked  after  by  a librarian  who  gets  $140  a 
month  for  never  coming  near  the  “library.” 

POLITICAL  VIRTUE  AND  CORRUPTION 

Superficially  the  politics  of  tropical  South 
America  bears  the  aspect  of  the  endeavor  of  a 
public-spirited  group  of  citizens  to  dislodge  from 
office  a band  of  greedy  politicians.  The  “outs” 
prove  their  case  against  the  “ins”  and,  seeing 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  359 


that  they  profess  the  noblest  sentiments,  you  ex- 
pect a general  clean-up  once  they  gain  the  upper 
hand.  What  generally  happens,  however,  is  that 
the  supplanters  make  the  Government  an  instru- 
ment of  profit  just  as  did  the  supplanted.  Since 
usually  the  taxes  go  to  swell  the  private  fortunes 
of  the  “ins,”  the  object  of  the  revolutionary 
leader  and  his  friends  is  to  gain  access  to  the 
public  treasury.  In  the  main,  politics  is  a struggle 
between  sections  of  the  governing  class  for  the 
proceeds  of  taxation  and  not,  as  in  more  ad- 
vanced countries,  between  interests  for  the  control 
of  laws  and  policies.  The  recent  President  of 
Colombia,  Dr.  Restrepo,  fairly  startled  his  people 
by  actually  using  the  revenues  of  the  Government 
for  public  works. 

The  Governor  of  an  Ecuador  province  assured 
me  that  the  former  President,  although  an  honor- 
able man,  seemed  to  regard  the  public  monies,  of 
whatever  origin  or  for  whatever  purpose  de- 
signed, as  his  to  do  with  as  he  saw  fit.  Having 
the  conquistador  spirit  he  obliged  town  and  pro- 
vincial treasuries  to  yield  up  their  funds  on  orders 
from  Quito.  Under  his  administration,  averred 
the  Governor,  the  greatest  corruption  prevailed. 
For  instance,  when  the  school  teachers  presented 
their  vouchers  to  the  treasurer  at  the  provincial 
capital,  they  were  told  there  was  no  money  to  pay 
them.  A confederate  of  the  treasurer  induced 
the  disappointed  public  servants  to  part  with  their 
vouchers  at  a discount  and  these  being  presented 


360 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


again  were  promptly  paid.  Thus  an  inside  ring 
absorbed  a considerable  part  of  the  monies  des- 
tined for  the  public  employees. 

The  secret  of  the  constant  failure  of  the  Peru- 
vian Government  effectually  to  restrain  the  rub- 
ber gatherers  on  the  Putumayo  River  from  their 
enslavement  of  the  forest  Indians  is  attributed, 
not  to  any  want  of  zeal  at  Lima,  but  to  the  fact 
that  any  representative  the  Government  sent 
out  to  Iquitos  as  judge  or  prefect  or  commandant 
was  corrupted,  and  after  elaborately  doing  noth- 
ing returned  with  the  report  that  all  was  well. 
With  one  exception  every  weapon  Lima  wielded 
against  the  rubber  demons  went  soft  as  lead. 

The  quality  of  Peruvian  administration  may  be 
gauged  from  the  state  of  the  custom  house  at  Cal- 
lao. Many  articles  sent  from  the  United  States 
never  reach  the  consignees  at  all.  Out  of  a single 
box  of  books  one  educator  lost  sixty.  If  the 
ship’s  manifest  shows  you  bringing  in  ten  boxes 
of  goods,  and  two  of  them  chance  to  slip  out  of  the 
sling  and  go  to  the  bottom  of  the  bay,  you  must 
pay  duty  on  them  or  lose  the  remaining  eight 
boxes.  All  sworn  statements  must  be  made  on 
certain  stamped  sheets  of  paper,  which  are  re- 
jected in  case  of  an  erasure  or  a half  line  too 
much.  The  slightest  discrepancy  between  the 
contents  of  a box  and  your  statement  of  what  it 
should  contain  results  in  a fine.  Callao’s  exorbi- 
tance may  be  gauged  from  the  fact  that  a church 
organ  costs  as  much  to  get  from  the  ship’s  hold 
through  the  custom  house  as  the  factory  price  plus 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  361 


the  transportation  from  Virginia  to  Callao.  Of 
Callao’s  charges  only  about  one-half  went  to  the 
Government  treasury.  One  importer  of  a $16 
Morris  chair  had  to  pay  $36  in  duties.  The  Amer- 
icans at  Cerro  de  Pasco  have  become  so  exasper- 
ated by  the  thefts  and  extortions  in  the  custom 
house,  that  they  admit  that  they  beat  the  Peruvian 
Government  every  chance  they  get.  They  bribe 
the  inspector  to  pass  their  baggage  and  one  lady 
told  with  glee  how  by  slipping  an  inspector  $10 
she  escaped  $500  in  duties. 

Near  Cerro  de  Pasco  an  American  mine  man- 
ager was  assassinated  in  his  bed  at  night  by  an 
Indian  workman  who  had  a grudge  against  him. 
His  friends  could  not  stir  the  authorities  to  act  in 
the  case  until  by  bribes  they  had  stimulated  the 
various  officials  from  the  prefect  down.  The  pre- 
fect had  to  have  $250.  Altogether  it  cost  the  mur- 
dered man’s  friends  $900  to  get  the  assassin  tried. 
He  was  found  guilty. 

In  Bolivia  the  end  man  of  the  Government,  the 
corregidor,  is  said  to  use  his  power  freely  to  ex- 
tract for  his  personal  benefit  a great  deal  of  pro- 
duce and  labor  from  the  Indians  living  still  in 
communities  on  their  own  land. 

In  Valparaiso  my  attention  was  called  to  three 
instances  in  which  influential  Chileans  in  strait- 
ened circumstances  had  been  able  to  sell  their 
mansions  at  fancy  prices  to  the  Government  for 
school  buildings,  although  the  houses  were  un- 
adapted to  such  use  and  the  Government  could 
have  done  much  better  to  build  for  itself.  In 


362 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


Valdivia  solid  German  merchants  charged  that 
justice  is  for  sale.  Only  the  rico  or  the  caballero 
ever  wins  a lawsuit.  The  officials  mark  the  indus- 
trious prospering  German  and  make  him  their 
prey. 

In  Chile  it  is  declared  on  all  hands  that  political 
corruption  is  increasing.  In  Congress  the  men  of 
the  old  governing  families  are  honest,  but  there  is 
a fringe  of  “administrative  people” — representa- 
tives of  large  mining  and  nitrate  companies,  of 
foreign  banks,  street  railways  and  certain  private 
railways — who  are  without  the  civic  traditions  of 
the  oligarchy  and  are  quite  unscrupulous  in  using 
their  money  in  making  politics  and  their  politics 
in  making  money.  With  the  advent  of  new  men 
into  the  charmed  circle  corruption  has  increased, 
though,  to  be  sure,  younger  and  cleaner  men  seem 
to  be  coming  into  the  parties  and  fighting  lobby- 
ing and  jobbery.  Most  of  the  shady  politicians 
are  over  forty  years  of  age. 

The  old  political  families  of  Argentina  have  a 
most  honorable  reputation.  President  Mitre,  for 
example,  after  giving  his  best  years  to  the  public 
service,  went  out  of  office  poor.  To  his  paper  La 
Nacion  he  imparted  a reputation  for  honesty  and 
reliability  which  makes  it  succeed  even  in  other 
hands.  Among  the  public  men  of  Argentina  to- 
day one  meets  with  big  men  actuated  by  an  unsel- 
fish devotion  to  the  common  weal.  Nevertheless, 
a cool  observer  like  Professor  Quesada  declares : 

‘ ‘ Our  Government  appears  to  be  the  heritage  of  a 
well-defined  minority — the  politicians — who  devote 


POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  363 


themselves  to  politics  just  as  other  social  classes 
devote  themselves  to  agriculture,  stock-raising, 
industry  or  commerce.  ’ ’ 

One  day  I ran  into  an  old  acquaintance  selling, 
let  us  say,  varnish,  for  a very  old  and  reputable 
English  firm.  Said  he:  “Our  goods  are  famous 
but  it  is  impossible  to  get  an  order  for  varnish 
without  buying  it.  I have  to  give  money  to  the 
man  who  has  the  say-so  about  ordering  it  and  to 
the  man  who  tests  it  and  reports  on  it.  Other- 
wise no  order.  Various  government  depart- 
ments have  used  my  varnish  and  in  every  case  a 
bribe  of  from  $25  to  $50  was  necessary.  At  first 
I couldn’t  conceive  that  a dignified,  white-mus- 
tached,  frock-coated  bureau  chief  would  take  my 
money,  but  never  yet  has  it  been  refused.  Some- 
times when  I am  to  submit  a bid  the  official  has 
said,  ‘Add  five  per  cent,  for  me.’  In  the  United 
States  I never  went  further  than  a dinner  or  a 
theater  party  in  order  to  get  business,  but  here 
you  give  money  as  well  as  entertainment.  My 
house  is  simply  aghast  at  this  way  of  doing  busi- 
ness.” 

An  American  university  professor  retained  for 
expert  work  by  one  of  the  government  depart- 
ments was  authorized  to  purchase  some  furniture 
for  his  office.  At  the  shop  he  picked  out  a certain 
piece  which  was  to  cost  $30.  When  the  dealer 
learned  where  it  was  to  be  delivered  he  exclaimed, 
“Oh,  this  is  on  government  account,  is  it?  Then 
the  price  will  be  $60,  of  which  you  will  get  half.” 
The  professor  refused  the  “rake-off”  and  con- 


364  SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 

sequently  came  to  be  regarded  as  an  impossible 
man. 

From  a friend  very  much  on  the  inside  came 
the  story  of  a foreign  promoter  who  found  the 
indispensable  government  permit  for  his  business 
strangely  difficult  to  obtain.  After  he  had  wasted 
a year  he  was  told  to  see  a certain  private  in- 
dividual at  a certain  address.  He  called  there, 
stated  his  trouble  and  was  directed  to  call  again 
at  two  o’clock  the  next  afternoon.  He  came  and 
was  told  that  if  he  meant  business  he  should  give 
a check  for  a certain  number  of  thousands  of 
pounds  sterling.  Eventually  he  did  so  and  the 
matter  of  the  government  permit  was  soon  ad- 
justed. 

An  old  college  friend,  now  an  engineer  in  charge 
of  a large  construction  in  Buenos  Aires,  had  an 
interesting  experience  with  officials  of  the  build- 
ing department  of  the  municipality.  After  his 
walls  were  nearly  up,  he  was  informed  that  they 
encroached  a meter  or  so  upon  the  plaza.  He 
understood  what  was  wanted  but,  having  cleverly 
retained  in  place  the  stone  laid  by  the  President 
himself  at  the  initiation  of  the  enterprise,  he  was 
able  to  defeat  the  attempted  hold-up. 

At  the  time  of  my  visit  the  splendid  new  Na- 
tional Capitol  was  in  men’s  minds  and  I had  ex- 
plained to  me  with  much  detail  the  method  by 
which,  in  spite  of  minute  specifications  and  sealed 
bids,  the  work  was  jobbed  and  certain  favored 
contractors  were  enabled  to  reap  huge  illegiti- 
mate profits. 


I 


The  cross  on  the  summit  of  El  Misti 


The  smoking  volcano  El  Misti,  Arequip: 


v, 

POLITICS  AND  GOVERNMENT  367 

For  all  its  great  area  Argentina  has  no  more 
people  than  our  largest  states.  It  is  fairer  there- 
fore to  compare  its  government  with  that  of  New 
York  or  Pennsylvania  than  with  onr  Federal  Gov- 
ernment. From  such  a comparison  I am  not  sure 
that  the  great  republic  of  the  South  would  come 
off  at  all  badly.  There  is  no  little  political  corrup- 
tion in  Buenos  Aires,  but  I doubt  if  the  Capital  by 
the  Plate  River  has  cause  to  blush  before  Albany 
or  Harrisburg. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


CLASS  DOMINATION 

ALTHOUGH  the  South  American  govern- 
ments are  republican,  the  needs  of  the  com- 
mon people  receive  from  them  but  scant  con- 
sideration. Those  who  work  with  their  hands 
are  without  an  understanding  of  their  interests 
and  have  therefore  little  political  importance. 
The  ruling  class  uses  its  control  of  Government 
to  draw  to  itself  the  lion’s  share  of  the  advantages 
of  the  social  union.  In  the  tropics  the  abuse  of 
political  power  is  the  shortest  road  to  wealth. 
Like  gold-mining,  or  rubber-gathering  with  en- 
slaved forest  Indians,  the  capture  of  the  proceeds 
of  taxation  is  a splendid  get-rich-quick  enterprise 
appealing  strongly  to  the  conquistador  imagina- 
tion. Government  is  a mode  of  acquisition  suffi- 
ciently predatory,  profitable  and  perilous  to  suit 
the  taste  of  the  born  gentleman.  The  interest 
of  the  common  people  in  politics  springs  from 
natural  pugnacity  or  from  love  of  watching  a 
dangerous  sport,  rather  than  from  any  benefit 
they  are  likely  to  get  from  it. 

In  Ecuador  a kind  of  free  masonry  unites  the 
members  of  the  upper  class,  so  that  the  law  bears 
only  on  the  masses.  No  respectable  man  with 

368 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


369 


money  or  influence  is  ever  annoyed  on  account  of 
any  homicide  he  may  have  committed.  The  per- 
petrator of  a murder  may  be  punished,  but  not 
the  gentleman  who  hired  it  done.  Army  officers 
who  have  engineered  a futile  military  outbreak 
are  let  off,  but  the  poor  soldier  hoys  they  seduced 
are  shot.  The  upper  classes  are  so  accustomed  to 
favors  that  they  were  deeply  shocked  when  the 
American  company  operating  the  Guayaquil-Quito 
Eailroad  insisted  that  everybody,  even  prominent 
persons,  should  pay  fare. 

Although  the  children  of  the  people  are  grow- 
ing up  in  darkness,  the  Government  spends  $10,000 
in  encouraging  a third-rate  opera  company  from 
Spain  to  come  up  to  Quito  and  brighten  life  for 
the  social  elite. 

The  Ecuador  system  of  taxing  the  produce  of 
the  land  rather  than  the  land  itself  is  obviously 
for  the  benefit  of  the  haciendados.  There  being 
no  penalty  for  holding  land  unused,  great  tracts 
lie  sterilized  by  speculation,  while  the  natives  grub 
a miserable  living  out  of  remote  ravines  up  to- 
ward the  snow  fields.  Concessions  from  colonial 
times  pass  down  for  generations,  only  a part  be- 
ing tilled.  A tax  on  land  values  which  would 
oblige  the  monopolizers  of  the  soil  to  use  their 
land  or  sell  it  would  burst  up  the  estates,  but  of 
course  it  will  never  be  imposed. 

Peru  has  fallen  upon  evil  days  and  the  princi- 
pal evidence  of  class  bias  upon  the  part  of  its 
Government  is  the  multiplication  of  petty  salaried 
posts  to  take  care  of  the  proud  but  impoverished 


370 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA  ' 


old  families.  To  appreciate  what  its  governing 
class  has  been  capable  of,  one  should  recall  how, 
during  the  third  quarter  of  the  last  century,  the 
huge  state  revenues  from  guano  and  nitrates  went 
to  enrich  a few  insiders,  and  left  behind  very  little 
in  the  way  of  public  institutions  or  public  works. 

Chile  affords  one  of  the  prettiest  examples  of 
government  for  a class  to  be  found  in  the  world 
to-day.  Formerly  the  landed  class  provided  a 
stable  public-spirited  government  resembling  that 
of  England  a century  ago  but  well  suited  to  the 
stage  of  development  of  the  people.  Gradually 
however  the  economic  independence  of  this  ele- 
ment has  been  impaired  by  the  competitive  ex- 
travagance radiating  from  the  Capital,  its  pecu- 
niary interest  has  become  more  involved  with  the 
maintenance  of  its  political  control,  while,  in  the 
meantime,  slighted  needs  of  the  masses  become 
ever  more  pressing. 

The  public  revenues  are  over  seventy  millions 
of  dollars,  which  is  enormous  for  a people  of  three 
and  one  half  millions  in  a country  not  more  than 
a quarter  of  which  is  fit  for  farming.  The  secret 
is  that  over  two  thirds  of  it  comes  from  export 
duties  on  nitrates.  There  being  no  taxes  to  keep 
them  concerned  over  what  the  Government  does 
with  its  income)  the  people  have  suffered  the  rul- 
ing class  to  absorb  much  of  it  by  the  continual 
creation  of  government  jobs  awarded  by  favor. 

Most  of  the  public  lands  of  Chile  have  been 
alienated  in  large  blocks  to  capitalists  and  specu- 
lators rather  than  to  settlers.  The  original  colo- 


One  of  Nature's  bastions,  l-'roui  Machepucchu  Hidden  amid  the  fastnesses  of  the  Andes 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


373 


nial  grants  were  intended  to  create  great  estates, 
and  this  aristocratic  system  of  land  distribution 
has  never  been  fundamentally  modified. 

The  dominant  class  of  landed  proprietors 
deliberately  perpetuates  the  regime  of  paper 
money,  under  which  in  forty  years  the  peso  has 
fallen  to  a fifth  of  its  former  value.  The  reason 
is  simple.  The  haciendado  sells  his  product  in 
Europe  for  gold  and  the  lower  the  rate  of  ex- 
change the  more  he  gets  for  it  in  Chilean  cur- 
rency. Farm  wages  do  not  rise  to  the  same  de- 
gree as  the  peso  depreciates,  so  that  he  makes  a 
profit  off  his  inquilinos,  who  have  not  the  dim- 
mest idea  why  every  year  it  is  harder  to  make 
both  ends  meet.  Again,  two  thirds  of  the  big 
estates  are  encumbered  and  the  depreciating  pesos 
are  as  good  as  ever  in  the  payment  of  the  interest 
and  principal  of  these  mortgages. 

There  are  many  other  things,  queer  but  alto- 
gether natural  under  a simon-pure  oligarchy  of 
from  100  to  150  families.  There  are  common 
schools  for  only  a third  of  the  children,  and  they  do 
not  connect  with  the  high  schools.  The  neglect  of 
public  hygiene  may  be  measured  from  the  fact  that 
in  one  of  the  finest  climates  in  the  world  the  death 
rate  equals  that  of  Russia,  being  more  than  twice 
that  of  the  United  States  and  Western  Europe 
and  a half  more  than  the  mortality  of  Brazil 
and  Argentina.  The  avarice  of  the  great  wine 
growers  has  prevented  any  state  check  to  an 
alcoholism  which  cannot  be  matched  elsewhere  on 
the  globe.  Save  in  respect  to  rural  laborers’ 


374 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


dwellings,  the  oligarchy  has  taken  not  one  step  in 
social  legislation.  Regulation  of  mines  and  fac- 
tories, safety  provisions,  workmen’s  compensa- 
tion, limitation  of  hours,  protection  of  working 
women  and  children — all  are  regarded  as  anar- 
chistic. A few  who  have  been  abroad  or  know 
what  has  been  done  elsewhere  urge  such  legisla- 
tion, but  the  governing  class  will  have  none  of  it. 

Since  that  class  has  its  estates  chiefly  in  the 
province  of  Santiago,  the  land  of  that  province 
is  under-assessed  so  as  to  keep  taxes  there  unfairly 
low.  I was  assured  that  on  one  pretext  or  an- 
other poor  girls  are  kept  out  of  the  state  liceos 
for  girls,  so  that  it  is  the  daughters  of  the  rich 
who  get  the  free  government  education.  On  the 
state  railroads  freight  rates  on  agricultural  pro- 
duce are  kept  unremuneratively  low  for  the 
benefit  of  the  haciendados.  A national  statistical 
bureau  which  prints  many  tables  of  minor  im- 
portance somehow  does  not  collate  and  print  the 
facts  of  land  distribution  in  its  possession.  One 
wonders  if  it  is  because  the  oligarchy  objects  to 
the  publication  of  such  significant  data. 

The  cabinet  of  the  Chilean  President  must  re- 
sign if  it  encounters  an  adverse  vote  in  Congress. 
It  does  not  have  even  the  privilege  the  British 
cabinet  has  of  dissolving  Parliament  and  order- 
ing a new  election.  A quarter  of  a century  ago 
a far-sighted  statesman,  President  Balmaceda, 
tried,  against  the  will  of  the  Congressional  oli- 
garchy, to  obtain  a revision  of  the  Constitution 
which  would  give  the  President  something  like 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


375 


the  place  lie  has  in  the  Government  of  the  United 
States.  After  bloody  strife  he  was  defeated,  hut 
now  all  thoughtful  men  admit  that  he  was  right. 
I talked  with  several  public  men  who  had  been 
imprisoned  by  Balmaceda  and  not  one  slurred  his 
memory  or  impugned  his  action. 

Since  the  opening  of  the  Transandine  five  years 
ago  many  Catalunians  and  Italians  have  filtered 
into  Chile  from  Argentina,  so  that  a propaganda 
of  the  anarchistic  South- European  type  is  spread- 
ing among  the  laboring  class  of  the  towns.  Anti- 
militarism, which  before  was  quite  unknown  in 
Chile,  is  showing  its  head.  Three  years  ago 
several  hundred  “reds”  marched  in  procession, 
one  of  their  banners  bearing  the  words,  “The 
Army  is  the  School  of  Crime,”  a sentiment  so 
shocking  to  ordinary  Chileans  that  it  evoked  a 
huge  counter-demonstration.  The  Panama  Canal 
will  lessen  still  further  the  isolation  of  Chile  and 
revolutionary  working-class  ideas  may  quickly 
spread  among  her  exploited  and  neglected  masses. 

Even  a decade  ago  the  temper  of  the  people 
was  so  ugly  that  once,  when  the  troops  were  ab- 
sent at  maneuvers,  a fearsome  mob  of  three  thou- 
sand persons,  that  seemed  to  spring  from  the 
gutter  like  the  Paris  revolutionaries  of  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint  Antoine,  marched  about  Santiago 
destroying  property.  Nothing  but  the  desperate 
exertions  of  the  mounted  police,  who,  by  remain- 
ing in  the  saddle  forty-eight  hours,  were  able 
to  keep  the  rioters  within  certain  bounds,  pre- 
vented the  burning  and  sacking  of  the  city.  The 


376 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


soldiers  were  brought  back  as  soon  as  possible 
and  four  hundred  persons  were  shot  down.  The 
gilded  youth  of  the  Capital,  who  as  an  emergency 
measure  had  been  armed,  amused  themselves  by 
potting  scms-culottes. 

This  rising  affrighted  the  governing  class  and 
now  it  shows  plain  signs  of  nervousness.  One 
evening  in  Santiago  when  the  strike  of  the  shoe- 
makers for  a living  wage  was  at  its  last  gasp,  I 
came  upon  two  squads  of  mounted  police — per- 
haps fifteen  in  all — drawn  up  watching  a pitiful 
little  demonstration  with  transparencies  being 
prepared  by  a score  or  two  of  striking  shoemakers* 

Not  long  ago  Enrico  Ferri,  the  Italian  sociol- 
ogist, told  the  Santiaguans  that  the  social  ques- 
tion will  find  Chile  worse  prepared  to  meet  it 
than  any  other  country.  He  was  right.  Blind 
to  the  signs  of  the  times,  the  masters  have  neg- 
lected popular  education,  so  that  once  these  be- 
nighted masses  come  to  feel  a sense  of  wrong  they 
will  turn  savage  and  destructive.  The  most 
thoughtful  men  in  Chile  anticipate  the  outbreak 
within  fifteen  or  twenty  years  of  a bloody  labor 
revolt,  which  even  the  soldiers  will  not  be  able  to 
quell  because  it  will  be  universal.  A few  far- 
sighted patriots  who  think  there  is  still  time  to 
escape  the  day  of  wrath  are  agitating  for  popular 
education,  public  hygiene,  labor  legislation  and 
the  combating  of  alcoholism.  But  the  ruling 
class  is  uncomprehending  and  uncompromising. 
It  denies  the  inevitableness  of  the  social  ques- 
tion, insisting  that  but  for  the  foreign-bom 


A part  of  Machepicehu 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


379 


agitator  discontent  would  never  enter  the  heart 
of  the  well-fed  and  cheerful  roto.  I noticed  that 
the  mercantile  community  in  Valparaiso  seemed 
ferocious  enough  to  skin  alive  the  “agitators” 
whom  they  held  responsible  for  the  longshore- 
men’s strike.  Few  of  the  propertied  recognize 
class  strife  as  the  necessary  accompaniment  of 
capitalism.  Like  Marshal  De  Broglie  they  expect 
proletarian  discontent  to  vanish  with  “a  whiff  of 
grape  shot”  and,  firm  in  the  government  saddle, 
they  stake  their  future  on  carabineers.  Out  of 
the  governing  class  have  issued  a few  hundred 
University  men,  teachers,  members  of  the  liberal 
professions  and  small  landed  proprietors,  who 
take  the  social  point  of  view  and  are  forming  cur- 
rents of  opinion  which  affect  even  the  Conserva- 
tives in  Congress.  Will  the  oligarchy  get  its  eyes 
open  and  yield  ere  it  is  too  late?  I am  bound  to 
say  that  the  hardest  heads  in  Santiago  and 
Buenos  Aires  do  not  expect  it. 

In  Argentina  one  fact  is  certain,  viz.,  that 
the  great  transportation  companies  do  not  domi- 
nate the  State.  The  fact  that  the  railroads  are 
foreign-owned  weakens  them  politically  and  they 
have  never  controlled  Congress  as  at  times  Ameri- 
can railroads  have  controlled  certain  of  our 
legislatures.  Not  only  is  the  policy  of  state  regu- 
lation fully  accepted,  but  the  Government  even 
exacts  two  per  cent,  of  the  gross  receipts  of  the 
Argentine  railways  and  lays  it  out  on  national 
highways. 

One  hears  no  little  praise  of  a remarkable  law 


380 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


which  penalizes  tardy  delivery  of  freight  by  a 
common  carrier.  Suppose  that  eight  days  is  con- 
sidered an  ample  allowance  of  time  for  forward- 
ing a certain  class  of  freight  from  Buenos  Aires 
to  Tucuman.  In  case  the  shipment  is  not  deliv- 
ered until  the  ninth  day,  one-eighth  must  be  de- 
ducted from  the  freight  charge.  If  it  arrives 
three  days  late  the  rebate  will  be  three-eighths. 
If  the  company  takes  twice  as  long  as  it  ought,  it 
gets  nothing  for  its  trouble,  and  beyond  that  point 
it  begins  to  indemnify  the  consignee  for  the  delay. 
So  eager  are  the  English-owned  railway  com- 
panies to  obtain  concessions  for  new  lines  that 
they  make  little  protest  against  the  creation  of 
such  obligations  to  the  public. 

The  immunities  enjoyed  by  landed  property 
give  a strong  hint  as  to  who ’s  who  in  the  politics 
of  Argentina.  Many  of  the  great  landowners  are 
able  to  utilize  only  a part  of  their  land,  but  this 
fact  does  not  constrain  them  to  sell  their  surplus 
holdings.  They  sit  tight  and  let  the  waste  land 
grow  in  value,  for  so  long  as  it  is  idle  it  is  tax  free. 
Such  exemption  of  course  encourages  speculation 
and  makes  it  harder  for  the  poor  man  to  obtain  a 
bit  of  land. 

In  Rosario,  a city  of  200,000,  the  death  rate  of 
children  under  five  years  is  49  per  thousand  for 
the  three-eighths  of  the  inhabitants  in  the  part  of 
the  city  supplied  with  sewers.  But  in  the  other 
quarters  the  mortality  of  children  ranges  from 
60  up  to  160  per  thousand.  If  you  inquire  why 
sewers  are  lacking,  the  municipality  pleads  that 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


381 


it  cannot  find  the  money  to  extend  the  water  and 
sewer  systems  as  they  are  needed.  It  cannot  find 
the  money  because  the  owners  of  real  estate  are 
not  obliged  to  contribute  one  penny  to  the  city 
treasury  and  because,  unlike  American  cities,  the 
municipality  is  not  permitted  to  defray  the  cost 
of  improvements  by  taking  a part  of  what  an 
improvement  has  contributed  to  the  value  of  the 
adjacent  properties. 

Even  to  the  provincial  treasury  Rosario  real 
estate  contributes  only  a paltry  three  mills  on 
the  dollar  of  assessed  valuation.  In  most  of  the 
provinces  one-half  of  one  per  cent,  seems  to  be 
about  the  limit  of  taxation  upon  land.  But  before 
inferring  the  political  predominance  of  the  landed 
interest  in  Argentina,  let  it  be  noted  that  such 
tenderness  for  land  may  spring  from  the  compe- 
tition of  province  with  province  to  attract  immi- 
grants. During  the  trying  period  of  getting  a 
start  land  is  all  the  settler  has  and  nothing  is 
more  reassuring  to  him  than  light  taxation  of  this 
form  of  property.  Within  the  same  province  the 
long  settled  portions  will  be  paying  taxes  on  their 
true  value,  while  the  land  tax  scarcely  touches  the 
newer  parts  because  purposely  their  valuation  has 
been  put  very  low. 

Had  the  landed  interest  been  in  the  saddle  the 
Central  Government  would  never  have  been  al- 
lowed to  push  as  it  has  its  policy  of  internal 
improvements.  The  development  railways  and 
irrigation  works  it  has  put  through  on  borrowed 
money  have  glutted  the  market  with  available 


382 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


land.  So  much  virgin  soil  has  been  brought 
within  reach  that  in  the  older  parts  of  Argentina 
the  value  of  land  has  been  prevented  from  rising 
or  has  even  fallen,  so  that  the  big  holdings  are 
being  divided.  Moreover,  the  newly  opened  dis- 
tricts have  drawn  away  so  many  men  that  land- 
owners  complain  that  they  cannot  find  hands 
to  work  their  ranches.  Some  deputies  oppose 
further  colonization  by  the  Government  unless 
the  colonists  are  brought  directly  from  Europe. 

Thus  it  is  clear  that  in  the  policy  of  the  Argen- 
tine Government  the  impulse  toward  economic 
development  and  national  expansion  has  over- 
ridden the  interests  of  the  powerful  landowning 
class.  Nor  has  the  welfare  of  labor  been  so  con- 
sistently ignored  in  Argentina  as  in  Chile.  Not 
only  is  there  a National  Department  of  Labor  on 
the  model  of  our  own,  but  there  is  a Federal  law 
prohibiting  Sunday  labor  and  another  protecting 
women  and  children  in  industry.  To  the  claims 
of  labor  the  National  Government  is  far  more  re- 
sponsive than  the  provinces  excepting,  however, 
the  province  of  Buenos  Aires,  which  has  the  kinds 
of  industry  which  create  among  laborers  a senti- 
ment of  solidarity,  whereas  the  agricultural  and 
stockraising  industries  of  the  interior  are  not 
favorable  to  the  political  cooperation  of  labor. 
Many  intelligent  men  are  laboring  to  introduce 
the  social  policies  of  the  advanced  nations  and  the 
principle  of  social  legislation  seems  to  encounter 
no  such  stubborn  resistance  as  it  met  with  in  the 
United  States. 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


383 


In  Argentina  therefore  we  find  something  very 
different  from  the  class  state  of  Chile.  The  big 
ranchers  and  the  speculating  landholders  have 
been  strong,  but  they  have  not  had  their  way  all 
the  time.  The  minds  of  legislators  have  re- 
sponded to  an  ideal  of  national  greatness.  Social 
ideas  are  not  without  influence.  The  plutocratic 
tendency  has  been  marked,  but  the  growing  demo- 
cratic spirit  bids  fair  to  check  and  qualify  it. 

There  is  no  better  appraisal  of  the  Argentine 
state  than  that  made  recently  by  the  eminent  so- 
ciologist, Ernesto  Quesada,  on  his  return  from 
Australia.  Contrasting  the  two  great  Southern 
countries  he  says : 

“There  as  here  immense  territory  and  sparse 
population.  There  as  here  stock-raising  and 
agriculture  lead  while  manufacturing  is  secondary. 
In  the  one  country  as  in  the  other  is  forming  a 
new  race,  there  homogeneous,  here  heterogeneous. 
The  economic  and  social  problems  are  the  same  in 
both  countries,  but  their  solution  is  diametrically 
opposed:  here,  the  individualistic  criterion  gov- 
erns, there,  the  socialistic. 

“Both  are  countries  of  immigration:  but  there 
it  is  restricted  by  racial,  linguistic  and  social 
standards,  while  here  the  gates  are  open  to  all. 
Both  export  meat  and  grain,  but  there  the  state 
fosters  production  and  exportation,  while  here 
they  are  left  to  individual  initiative.  Both  bor- 
row foreign  capital,  but  there  the  loans  are  ex- 
pended in  productive  works  and  the  State  assumes 
the  administration  of  undertakings  of  a monopo- 


384 


SOUTH  OF  PANAMA 


listic  nature,  such  as  transportation,  insurance, 
refrigeration  and  like  industries,  representing  a 
business  based  on  the  interest  of  the  community; 
while  here  the  State  divests  itself  of  the  conduct 
of  such  enterprises  even  if  perchance  it  has  them 
in  its  hands,  as  once  it  had  certain  railways,  and 
leaves  to  private  enterprise  such  important 
public  services  as  telephones,  lighting  and  docks. 
There  no  danger  of  trustification  of  any  industry 
because  the  State  intervenes  and  assumes  its  man- 
agement ; here  private  capital  is  left  free  to  com- 
bine, in  form  more  or  less  covert,  and  constitute 
true  monopolies.  There  the  absence  of  great  pri- 
vate companies  conducting  public  industries  which 
employ  thousands  of  persons  makes  unknown  the 
political  influence  which  these  inevitably  exer- 
cise; here  such  companies  wield  a considerable 
influence,  which  they  may  be  tempted  to  use,  by 
means  of  the  vote  of  their  employees  or  by  the 
natural  seduction  of  favors  direct  or  indirect,  to 
the  injury  of  democracy.  There  the  settlers  are 
aided  with  loans  from  the  public  treasury;  here 
they  are  abandoned  to  the  banks  and  the  private 
money  lenders.  There  likewise  certain  agricul- 
tural or  stock-raising  industries  are  helped  by  the 
credit  of  the  state;  here  the  state  does  not  inter- 
vene in  what  is  considered  to  be  a matter  of  pri- 
vate concern.  There  despite  such  financial  inter- 
ventions the  Treasury  reports  regularly  show  a 
surplus ; here,  in  spite  of  withholding  public 
money  from  such  purposes,  they  generally  close 
with  a deficit. 


CLASS  DOMINATION 


385 


“Finally, — to  sum  it  all  up — there  the  functions 
of  the  State  are  extended  wherever  the  public  wel- 
fare requires  it,  and  no  individual  right  is  valid  as 
against  that  of  the  collectivity ; here  the  radius  of 
government  action  is  limited  and  the  State  main- 
tains intact  the  private  right  of  each,  which  the 
general  interest  may  not  set  aside.  ’ ’ 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Absentee  landowners,  Ecua- 
dor, 139,  143. 

Agriculture,  patriarchal,  22 ; 
of  Incas,  47 ; in  high  alti- 
tudes, 62;  intensive,  132, 
161;  cooperation,  133;  ab- 
sentee landowners,  139-143; 
Labor  system,  143,  159,  282; 
wages,  158 ; Chile,  159,  160; 
Argentina,  161,  129,  387 ; 

Australia,  383;  see  also 
Land. 

Alcoholism,  218-221;  among 
Keehans,  80;  at  fiestas,  218- 
221,  323;  among  Mapuches, 
220;  among  Chileans,  221; 
fostered  by  wine  industry, 
370. 

Alfaro,  his  revolution  and 
fate,  31. 

Altruism,  want  of,  211-212. 

Altura,  the,  effects  of,  49,  56. 

American  Institute,  327,  328. 

Americans,  the,  manners,  209; 
business  firms,  48,  363-367 ; 
educators,  272-275;  com- 
pared with  Latins,  278. 

Anarchists,  Italian  and  Cata- 
lunian,  375. 

Anti-militarism,  374. 

Antioquians,  the,  14. 

Araueania,  102-107,  220. 

Archaeology,  enthusiasm  for  in 
Cuzco,  66. 

Arequipa,  54-60. 

Argentina,  114—136;  people, 
119;  immigration,  122-134; 
collective  mind,  127 ; land, 
128-134;  spirit,  134-138; 
labor,  144,  167 ; agriculture, 
161;  peons  162,  164;  alco- 
holism, 218;  illegitimacy, 


226;  education,  272,  277, 

291;  libraries,  293;  intellec- 
tual life,  294;  publishing 
firms,  297,  298;  church,  309; 
marriage,  315;  education, 
317,  318;  clergy,  318;  elec- 
tions,  340;  politics,  347-348- 
362;  bribery,  363,  364,  367; 
hygiene,  373;  anarchy,  375; 
transportation,  379,  380, 

381 ; finance,  381 ; economic 
development,  382 ; compared 
with  Australia,  383-385. 

Aristocracy,  170,  172,  237,  262, 
370;  see  also  Class  Domina- 
tion. 

Atahualpa,  treasure  gathered 
for,  23. 

Australia,  compared  with  Ar- 
gentina, 383-385. 

Aymar&s,  the,  84,  87-90; 

hardiness,  87;  fondness  for 
animals,  88;  religion  and 
superstition,  88,  147;  com- 
pared with  Kechuas,  247. 

Bailey,  Dr.  W.  F.,  50. 

Ballivian,  Dr.  Manuel  Vin- 
cente, cited,  239,  294. 

Balmaceda,  President,  282. 

Basque  immigration  to  Argen- 
tina, 128. 

Beautification  of  cities,  Buenos 
Aires,  118,  119;  La  Paz,  244. 

Benalcazar,  22,  42. 

Bingham,  Professor  Hiram,  64. 

Birth  rate,  the,  43,  193-197. 

Bolivia,  81—83 ; agriculture, 
83;  native  races,  87-89,  334; 
caste,  172;  morals,  223;  il- 
legitimacy, 227 ; character, 
232;  aristocracy,  239;  races, 


390 


INDEX 


247 ; education,  260,  271, 

276,  328;  intellectual  life, 
294;  religion,  299,  316,  317, 
325;  marriage,  315;  philan- 
thropy, 326;  politics,  331, 
333,  334,  361. 

Boy  Scout  Movement,  aristo- 
cratic attitude  toward,  168. 

Breeding,  scientific,  81. 

Bribery  in  politics,  339,  360- 
364. 

Buenaventura,  3,  13,  17. 

Buildings,  educational,  266, 
267. 

Bull  fighting,  in  Peru,  217. 

Business,  in  hands  of  foreign- 
ers, 332-381;  bribery  meth- 
ods with  Government,  365- 
369. 

Buenos  Aires,  beauty,  118; 
comeliness  of  children,  120; 
people,  121-123;  treatment 
of  women,  180;  birth  rate, 
193;  illegitimacy,  228;  sec- 
ularism, 315. 

Cali,  8-13,  139,  181. 

Caste,  139-172;  see  also  Class 
Domination. 

Cathedral,  La  Paz,  325. 

Cauca  Valley,  3. 

Cauca  River,  10. 

Caudillismo,  343,  344,  347. 

Cemeteries,  municipalization 
of,  300. 

Central  Railway  of  Peru,  44, 
48. 

Centralization,  education,  254, 
265,  272,  282-285,  353; 

church  funds,  311,  312;  gov- 
ernment, 338,  447,  350-357 ; 
public  institutions,  347,  354. 

Cerco  de  Pasco  Mining  Co., 
large  influence,  48;  enganche 
system,  153,  154. 

Chamberlain,  J.  Houston,  cited, 
40. 

Character,  239-252 ; courtesy, 
11;  mestizo,  30;  indecision, 
124;  lack  of  organizing 
power,  237 ; lack  of  persist- 


ence, 243-247 ; race  and  en- 
vironment, 248-250;  naivety 
in  religion,  303. 

Charity,  see  Philanthropy. 

Child,  the,  education,  277,  278; 
see  also  the  Family,  Educa- 
tion, etc. 

Chile,  94-113;  seasons,  94-97; 
transportation,  101;  mis- 
sions, 102,  104;  climate,  107; 
races,  108-110;  character, 
111-113;  courtship,  181; 
women,  182;  marriage,  198; 
larceny,  213;  fatalism,  214; 
cruelty,  217;  alcoholism, 
220;  sex  obsession,  221,222; 
illegitimacy,  238;  disdain  of 
labor,  241;  stubbornness, 
247;  mendacity,  252;  educa- 
tion, 255,  259,  261,  266,  271, 
272,  287;  religion,  306,  311, 
317,  326;  politics,  338,  344; 
government,  353;  spoils  sys- 
tem, 358,  361,  362;  class 
domination,  370,  374,  376; 
labor,  382. 

Chinese  immigrants  in  Peru, 
39,  91. 

Chivalry,  in  Ecuador,  171. 

Chico,  the,  3,  4. 

Church,  the  Roman  Catholic, 
attitude  toward  education 
of  the  lower  classes,  253 ; 
competition  with  Protestant- 
ism, 256;  position  in  Consti- 
tutions, 299;  relation  to  the 
State,  306-312;  control  of 
marriage,  306,  312-315; 

property,  309-311;  seminar- 
ies, 353. 

Classes,  social,  139-172,  254- 
262,  287,  331-337,  354. 

Class  domination,  370-385. 

Clericalism,  in  Argentina,  134; 
in  politics,  344;  see  also  the 
Church,  Religious  Orders, 
etc. 

Climate,  determinism,  41,  49, 
324 ; causes  over-sexuality, 
223. 

Coca  chewing,  52,  53. 


INDEX 


391 


Cochabamba,  328. 

Collective  mind,  127. 

Colombians,  3-26 ; cruelty,  7 ; 
“tribes,”  14;  labor,  139,  148, 
149;  women,  192;  birth  rate, 
194;  education,  200,  259, 

267,  286;  marriage,  229; 

character,  243;  politics,  337; 
spoils  system,  357. 

Colonies,  English  compared 
with  Spanish,  148. 

Colonization,  types  of,  144—148. 

Common  lands,  in  Peru,  80. 

Communal  system,  makes  for 
indolence,  80. 

Concertaje,  151. 

Conservation  of  natural  re- 
sources, neglect  of,  107. 

Conservatism,  of  Calians,  10; 
of  Indians,  81 ; in  interior 
of  Argentina,  134;  fostered 
by  masters,  1 60. 

Conservative  Party,  ignores 
popular  education,  261 ; pro- 
tects Church  property,  310; 
opposes  compulsory  educa- 
tion, 317;  management  of 
funds,  340;  candidates,  343- 
347 ; see  also  Polities. 

Cooperation,  agricultural,  133; 
lack  of  spirit  of,  in  unversi- 
ties,  232-237. 

Cornejo,  Dr.  M.  H.,  294. 

Cortez,  147. 

Costume,  of  Quito  women,  27 ; 
of  Keehua  women,  79-80;  see 
also  Fashions. 

Courtesy,  11,  209,  210,  211. 

Courtship,  customs  of,  181. 

Cranial  deformation  in  Ancient 
Peru,  70. 

Cruelty  to  animals,  7,  217. 

Custom-house  frauds,  360-361. 

Cuzco,  64-68,  74,  227,  353. 

Democracy,  in  Argentina,  137, 
262;  socializing  influence  of, 
212. 

Diseases,  Andean,  53-54;  ve- 
nereal, 197,  222. 

Divorce,  un equal  laws  of,  202. 


Domesticity,  169,  170;  neg- 

lected in  girls’  education, 
268. 

Domination,  of  Spanish  over 
Indians,  73,  89,  90;  see  also 
Class  Domination. 

Earthquakes,  59,  98. 

Economic  development,  384. 

Economic  immigration,  128. 

Economic  opportunity,  parent 
of  energy,  121,  161. 

Ecuador,  3-32;  races,  147; 
labor,  148,  150;  chivalry, 

171;  women,  178,  179;  fam- 
ily, 189;  illegitimacy,  227; 
marriage,  229,  312;  charac- 
ter, 231,  243;  education,  259, 
260,  286;  church,  300,  324; 
Indians,  331;  politics,  337, 
340,  343;  bribery,  359;  class 
domination,  368,  369. 

Education,  253-298 ; girls’, 
134;  Argentina,  134,  317, 
318;  improvement  of,  192; 
Colombia,  200,  259,  267,  286; 
and  the  Church,  219,  253, 
315-318;  Bolivia,  238,  266, 
271,  276;  discipline,  239,  241; 
mistrusted  by  Indians,  256; 
elementary,  259-266 ; Ecua- 
dor, 259,  260,  286,  316;  sta- 
tistics, 260,  261;  aristocratic 
and  democratic  systems,  262, 
268,  287 ; instability  in,  243, 
244 ; class  inequality,  253 ; 
centralization,  254-265,  282- 
285;  Chile,  255,  259,  261, 

266,  271,  272,  277,  287; 
buildings,  266-267 ; teachers, 

267,  275;  Peru,  270,  275,  276; 
German  educators,  271;  ad- 
vancement of  teachers,  271; 
methods,  275,  278;  American 
educators,  275-277;  secon- 
dary, 286-288 ; universities, 
288^-293 ; libraries,  293-294 ; 
payment  of  teachers,  359. 

Elections,  conduct  of,  231,  337- 
340. 

English,  Business  Firms,  48. 


392 


INDEX 


English  Influence,  97,  98,  141. 

English  Colonies,  148. 

Environment,  influence  of,  248, 
249,  291,  324. 

Esmeraldas,  18. 

Exploitation,  of  Indians,  89, 
333;  of  laborers,  142,  144, 
149-152,  158,  159,  160;  en- 
ganche  system,  153,  162;  of 
a society  by  its  members, 
232 ; of  rubber  gatherers, 
360;  of  teachers,  359. 

Family,  the,  173-207;  clan, 
199;  weakness  of,  224,  227, 
228,  229,  230;  see  also  Mar- 
riage. 

Fashions,  in  La  Paz,  84,  172; 
in  Santiago,  172. 

Feudalism  of  Peru,  152. 

Feuds  among  Indians,  87. 

Foundling  Asylum,  Santiago, 
305. 

Free  Trade,  348. 

Frontier,  influence  of,  109. 

Fruit  growing,  in  Ecuador,  19, 
20;  in  Peru,  37;  in  Argen- 
tina, 114. 

Germans,  40,  107,  109,  111,  143, 
271,  275. 

Giesecke,  Dr.  A.  A.,  67. 

Goths,  supposed  ancestors  of 
Chileans,  108. 

Government,  331-364;  pater- 
nalism, 30,  331;  bribery,  361, 
362;  and  business  firms,  363- 
367 ; officials,  369 ; class 
domination,  370;  see  also 
Politics  and  the  State. 

Guano,  37. 

Guayaquil,  17-19. 

Heredity,  influence  of,  248. 

Hindus,  excluded  from  Argen- 
tina, 91. 

Home  life,  lack  of,  among 
Chilean  peons,  161;  lack  of 
discipline,  190;  see  also  the 
Family. 

Homestead  system,  128. 


Housing,  of  laborers,  122,  373, 
374. 

Housekeeping,  neglect  of,  191— 
192. 

Humboldt  Current,  31,  33,  34. 

Hygiene,  public,  197 ; lack  of, 
238;  in  school  buildings, 
266,  288,  375,  376. 

Idealism,  lack  of,  in  Argentina, 
242. 

Illegitimacy,  224-230;  in  Cali, 

9,  227;  among  mestizos,  188; 
legal  inquiry  into,  202;  in 
big  towns,  227 ; due  to  high 
fees  for  church  marriage, 
229;  double  cradle  in  Santi- 
ago, 305. 

Immigration,  white,  30,  41; 

Japanese,  in  Peru,  90;  Chi- 
nese, 90;  problem  of  Asiatic, 
91,  92;  European  to  Argen- 
tina, 120,  122-127. 

Incas,  the,  agriculture,  47 ; 
architecture,  67 ; civiliza- 
tion, 68 ; Museum  of  relics, 
69;  houses  and  gardens,  72; 
terraces,  77. 

Indians,  the,  see  Native  Races. 

Indolence,  238-247. 

Infant  mortality,  among  the 
Indians,  177 ; German  and 
Chilean,  197-198;  statistics 
of,  197. 

Inquilinos,  of  Chile,  142,  158- 
163;  see  also  Peonage. 

Intellectual  life,  294-298. 

Interrelationship;  of  Calians, 

10. 

Irrigation,  coastal,  34,  37 ; at 
Arequipa,  54,  57 ; under  the 
Incas,  47,  77,  78;  in  Chile, 
99. 

Japanese  immigrants,  in  Are- 
quipa, 39;  in  Peru,  90;  fu- 
ture, 90-93. 

Joint  Stock  Companies,  fail- 
ure of,  232. 

Journalism,  200,  298,  337. 


INDEX 


393 


Justice,  for  sale,  334,  362;  and 
class  domination,  369. 

Kechuas,  73-81,  147,  297. 

Labor,  conditions,  11,  12,  27, 
144,  147,  163,  164,  167,  168; 
contempt  for,  163,  164,  167, 
168,  170,  239,  193,  242;  and 
education,  254;  revolt  of, 
375,  376;  legislation,  376; 
women  and  children,  382; 
see  also  Peonage. 

Land,  common,  80 ; home- 
steads, 128-129;  latif  undid, 
129-13.1;  statistics,  130; 
Argentine  law,  130;  absentee 
landowners,  139-143;  Cor- 
doba, 131;  Salta,  131;  eco- 
nomic opportunity,  161; 
transportation,  380 ; taxa- 
tion, 369,  381;  public,  370; 
holdings,  373;  Argentina, 
383. 

La  Paz,  83,  84,  244,  304. 

La  Plata,  University  of,  292, 
294. 

Las  Casas,  introduces  negro 
slaves,  4. 

Latacunga  legend  of  Inca 
treasure,  22,  23. 

Latifundia  system,  129,  131, 
148-153. 

Latin  mind,  the,  278-282. 

Latins,  supposed  decadence  of 
the,  121. 

Law,  the  teaching  of,  292,  293. 

Letelier,  Dr.  Valentin,  294. 

Liberal  Party,  the,  and  the 
Church,  300;  and  church 
property,  310;  agnosticism-, 
325;  organization,  340. 

Libraries,  public,  137,  293,  294, 
358 ; private,  294. 

Liga  pro  Indig ena,  154,  157, 
241. 

Lima,  41-44;  239,  350,  353. 

Machepicchu,  64,  67. 

Malaria,  ravages  of,  5. 


Manners,  11,  208-210. 

Manta,  Ecuador,  17. 

Mapuches,  The,  147,  213,  214, 
247. 

Marriage,  Argentina,  315;  Bo- 
livia, 315;  Colombia,  229; 
Chile,  198;  Ecuador,  229; 
Peru,  312;  trial  system 
among  Indians,  174;  of  con- 
venience, in  Chile,  182; 
mixed  marriages,  198;  patri- 
archal system  of,  199;  sole 
vocation  of  women,  201; 
neglect  of,  228;  high  church 
fees,  229 ; weakness  as  in- 
stitution, 230;  evasion  of, 
244;  and  the  Church,  312- 
315;  civil,  312;  regulations, 
315;  statistics  of,  315. 

Masculinism,  134,  192,  201- 

204. 

Meiggs,  Henry,  44. 

Menial  service,  demand  for, 
169-170. 

Mestizos,  see  Race  crossing. 

Middle,  class,  332. 

Militarism,  of  Chileans,  108, 
110;  and  politics,  332; 
maintains  class  rule,  338; 
class  domination,  369,  376. 

Mining,  Enganche  system, 
153. 

Minority  rule,  in  intellectual 
matters,  297,  298;  in  poli- 
tics, 362-363. 

Missions,  Protestant,  103,  325- 
328. 

Monroe  Doctrine,  possible  de- 
velopment of,  93. 

Moorish  influence,  9,  42. 

Moral  instruction,  317. 

Morals,  208-230;  cruelty  to 
animals,  7 ; choler,  190 ; fam- 
ily affection,  210-211;  altru- 
ism, 211;  egoism,  212;  hon- 
esty, 213;  thievishness,  213; 
recklessness,  214;  sex,  221- 
224 ; distrust,  232 ; pride, 
233,  243;  self  indulgence, 

238-241;  mendacity,  282. 

Moreno,  Garcia,  22,  24. 


394 


INDEX 


Motion  picture  show,  influence 
of,  13,  179. 

National  consciousness,  lack 
of,  344. 

National  expansion,  Argen- 
tina, 382. 

National  traits,  changeability 
of,  249,  250. 

Nationalism,  348,  349. 

Nationalization  of  church  prop- 
erty, 311. 

Native  Races,  the,  27-29;  64- 
93;  religious  music,  73;  hu- 
mility, 73;  exploitation,  89, 
333  (see  also  Peonage)  fu- 
ture, 92,  93;  education,  256, 
259;  Church,  321;  alcohol- 
ism, 80,  218-221,  323;  si- 
mony, 322,  323 ; protection, 
334 ; see  also  Aymaras, 
Kechuas,  Mapuches. 

Nelson,  Dr.  Ernesto,  cited,  277. 

Negroes,  3,  4,  28,  162,  213. 

Nitrate  fields,  37,  161,  222. 

Nitrates,  37,  372. 

Okuma,  Count,  cited,  90. 

Old  rfigime,  208,  209. 

Organization,  lack  of,  231- 
237,  288. 

Panama  hats,  17,  19. 

Papal  Nuncio,  visit  of,  to 
Chile,  310. 

Parasitic  manner  of  life,  163- 
168. 

Parental  authority,  weakness 
of,  189-190;  vested  in  father, 
202. 

Patriarchal  conditions,  among 
Kechuas,  80;  in  Argentina, 
144;  among  creoles,  199. 

Patriotism,  87,  242. 

Peonage,  132,  144,  148-153, 

161,  162,  254-255;  see  also 
Labor. 

Peru,  33,  82;  climate,  33-37; 
labor,  140,  141,  148,  152,  153, 
154,  168,  169;  feudalism,  152; 
aristocracy,  170;  women, 


183,  184,  268;  family,  189; 
birth  rate,  196;  sex,  184, 
223;  courtesy,  209,  211;  il- 
legitimacy, 227 ; universities, 
233,  234;  intellectual  life, 
239;  character,  243;  race, 
260;  education,  271,  275, 
276;  centralization,  282,  287, 
291;  religion,  300,  311,  321; 
marriage,  312;  politics,  338, 
343;  universities,  353;  rub- 
ber gatherers,  360;  officials, 
369. 

Philanthropy,  211,  305,  311. 

Pizarro,  23,  73,  147. 

Plague,  the  bubonic,  18. 

Plaza,  President,  340. 

Plutocracy  in  Argentina,  137. 

Police,  and  elections,  337 ; and 
working  class,  376. 

Political  morals,  358-367. 

Politics,  331-367 ; passion  for, 
in  Cali,  10;  and  education, 
286;  and  population,  331; 
Bolivia,  331,  333,  334,  361; 
Colombia,  337 ; Ecuador, 
337-340,  343;  Peru,  338, 

343;  Chile,  338-344;  Argen- 
tina, 347,  348,  362;  pugnacity 
in,  368. 

Pongos,  157,  158;  see  also 
Peonage. 

Potatoes,  desiccation  of,  82. 

Progress,  spirit  of,  233. 

Property,  sense  of,  213;  rights 
of,  ignored,  240. 

Protectionism,  348. 

Protestantism,  256,  303,  323- 
328. 

Public  opinion,  over-sensitive- 
ness to,  242;  lack  of,  337; 
undeveloped,  343-344. 

Public  utilities,  334,  348,  349, 
353. 

Publishing  firms,  lack  of,  297. 

Quesada,  Ernesto,  294,  364,  383, 
385 

Quito,  18-27. 

Race  Crossing,  in  Ecuador,  29, 


INDEX 


395 


30;  in  Peru,  39-41;  in  Chile, 
108-112;  results  of,  213- 

216,  220,  221,  248-249,  323. 
Race  determinism,  324. 
Railways,  see  Transportation. 
Religion,  medievalism  of,  300- 

305;  in  education,  315-318; 
debasement  of,  322-324 ; 
weakening  hold  of,  324-325. 
Religious  orders,  the,  286,  305, 
310,  311,  321. 

Revenue,  public,  357,  370. 
Roads,  see  Transportation. 

Roca,  President,  127,  128,  129. 
Rosa  of  Lima,  43. 

Rosario,  127,  266,  294,  380, 
381 

Rosas,  161,  347. 

Rubber  gatherers,  exploitation 
of,  360. 

Rural  problem,  the,  139-143, 
357. 

San  Marcos,  University  of, 

217,  233,  291,  353. 

Santiago,  98-99,  172,  357,  374, 

375. 

Sarmiento,  President,  262,  271, 
193. 

Salta,  131. 

Sanitation,  lack  of,  in  Quito, 
27;  in  Lima,  44;  prejudice 
against,  57;  English,  in  Val- 
paraiso, 98. 

Science,  teaching  of,  276,  292. 
Self-indulgence,  238,  247. 

Sex  hygiene,  and  the  Church, 
316. 

Sex  ratio,  in  early  Chile,  109, 

110. 

Sex  relations,  42,  174,  177,  183- 
187  221-224. 

Simony,  304,  305,  321-323. 

Size  of  families,  193,  194,  197. 
Slavery,  4,  144. 

Smallpox,  among  Indians,  50. 
Social  capillarity,  161. 

Social  History,  determinism  of, 
324. 

Social  intercourse,  lack  of,  101- 
178-183,  212. 


Social  leadership,  lacking  in 
rural  Chile,  143. 

Social  problem,  the,  in  Chile, 
373-379. 

Socialist  party,  the,  347-348. 

Soroche,  47,  48. 

Spoils  system,  the,  357-358. 

Sports,  athletic,  134,  178,  224. 

Standard  of  living,  159,  160. 

State,  the,  and  the  Church,  229, 
306-312;  and  marriage,  312- 
315;  and  labor,  376,  382;  in 
Argentina  and  in  Australia, 
383-385. 

Student  life,  see  Universities. 

Subsidy  system,  the,  288. 

Suffrage,  337-340. 

Sun  worship,  cause  of,  82. 

Symmetry,  Latin  love  of,  278. 

Syrian  immigrants,  14,  60. 

“Swallow  migration,”  Argen- 
tina, 124. 

Taxation,  369,  374,  380-381. 

Tello,  Dr.  Julio,  70,  71. 

Tenancy,  in  Argentina,  133, 
161 ; see  also  Land. 

Titicaca,  Lake,  63,  64,  300. 

Town  life,  passion  for,  increas- 
ing, 88,  110;  fondness  of 

Spaniards  for,  139,  141-144; 
and  Universities,  291,  353. 

Transportation,  3,  19,  22,  38,  44, 
101,  114,  117,  118,  379-383. 

Typhus,  among  Indian  miners, 
50. 

Universities,  233-234;  in  cities, 
281 ; aristocratic,  287,  288- 
293;  lack  of  organization  in, 
288;  La  Plata,  292;  San 
Marcos,  288;  agnosticism  of 
students,  325;  national  over- 
shadow provincial,  349;  and 
town  life,  353. 

Uta,  54. 

Valparaiso,  97-98,  182,  197. 

Valverde,  23. 

Verrugas,  53. 

Volcanic  eruptions,  21. 


396 


INDEX 


Wages,  158,  159;  see  Labor. 

War  of  the  Pacific,  the,  43. 

Wealth,  rapid  growth  of,  in  Ar- 
gentina, 134. 

White  slave  traffic,  123. 

Wine  industry,  the,  375. 

Women,  and  the  Family,  173— 
207 ; education  of,  in  Argen- 
tina, 134;  despise  menial 
work,  169,  173;  position  of, 
among  Indians,  174-178; 
guarded  girls,  178;  unpro- 
tected tinder  masculine  dom- 
inance, 179;  domestic  posi- 
tion higher  than  German  in 
Chile,  182;  cleverer  than  men 
of  tropical  S.  A.,  184-188; 


neglect  housekeeping,  191 ; 
church-going  of,  191;  segre- 
gation of,  192-193;  self-sac- 
rifice of,  194;  outside  the 
home,  200,  201 ; marriage 
sole  vocation  of,  201 ; before 
the  law,  201-202;  sex  obses- 
sion among,  222,  223;  aris- 
tocratic education  of,  268; 
more  religious  than  men, 
325;  beauty  of  Peruvian,  171. 

Yellow  fever,  18. 

Y.  M.  C.  A.,  Buenos  Aires,  170. 

Zambo,  the,  41. 

Zeballos,  Dr.  Estanislao,  294. 


